


Nothing Here is as it Seems

by SkywardGeek



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Additional Warnings Apply, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Anorexia, Eating Disorders, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Tags Contain Spoilers, Tony Stark Has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:20:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 32
Words: 97,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24026494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkywardGeek/pseuds/SkywardGeek
Summary: Tony Stark is fine.Sure, he moved to a new city on a whim, but he's an eccentric billionaire - that's allowed!And sure, he moved from a massive compound, mansion, and tower, to a tiny little one bed apartment that barely has enough room for him - it was cosy!And sure, he barely sees his friends and does nothing but work - his job right now is important, okay? He's got to fix the accords and bring the Avengers back, for the safety of the planet!Tony Stark is fine. This is not a mental breakdown.He's met someone new.He's learning to cook.He's losing weight and getting fitter.This is all he ever wanted.He's fine. He's happy.
Relationships: (past), Avoiding Spoilers - More Tags to Follow, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Tony Stark/Tiberius Stone
Comments: 378
Kudos: 416





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings Below - this may contain spoilers so if you are unaffected by triggers and don't wish to have any of the themes/plot of the story spoiled, please scroll down until it says chapter 1.
> 
> If anyone has anything specific they require trigger warnings for, please let me know and I will make sure it's tagged at the beginning of each chapter.
> 
> In the meantime, please be aware that this story will potentially contain triggers for the following and a majority of these triggers can be found throughout:
> 
> \- non-consensual sex  
> \- gaslighting  
> \- domestic abuse (mental, physical, emotional, sexual)  
> \- rape (I am making a distinction between this and the non-consensual due to the character's perception of both acts)  
> \- eating disorders  
> \- violence (will avoid being graphic)  
> \- hallucinations  
> \- mental illness (anxiety disorders, PTSD, severe depression)
> 
> This list may not be complete and may be added to at a later date.
> 
> End of Spoiler and Trigger Warning

#  ****Chapter 1 – A Cup of Coffee and a New Home** **

May 5th 2017 - 08:41am

To do:

  * Empty moving van of boxes and pay rental fee
  * ~~Organise boxes into their rooms~~ ~~~~
  * Build new Ikea bed
  * ~~Build new Ikea Table and Chairs~~ ~~~~
  * Unpack boxes 
    * Kitchen
    * Bedroom
    * ~~Workshop and Garage~~ ~~~~
    * Living Room
  * Get lunch



Pulling a box out of the moving van, he balanced it on his hip, wiping the sweat from his brow with his free hand. With everything that had happened, he needed to escape. Find some quiet. So he found his way to Boston. Hidden in plain sight. The media hadn’t followed him here. No tabloids splashed with headlines of his failure, pictures of him and the ~~team~~ Avengers standing together for their past press releases, no quotes from his interviews of how he wanted to make a better world, how he’d left the weapons business behind. Nothing to remind him of the past year. He’d retire peacefully. The world didn’t need him and had made that obvious, so he took the hint and allowed himself to be cast aside and forgotten like an obsolete mobile phone. Vision was right, since he’d become Iron Man, the threats to earth just kept coming. It’s like they liked the challenge. So if there was no Iron Man, there’d be no threats. That was the theory anyway. He carried the box into his new apartment, setting it on top of the pile of others that were stacked in his dining room which was also his kitchen.

The apartment was smaller than he was used to, though it wasn’t like he was housing a bunch of superheroes any more so he didn’t really need the space. There was a small kitchen area, counters built into the corner of the room, fridge freezer, oven, and microwave helpfully being set up by Dummy. The robot arm carefully adjusted as it lined up with the outlet before plugging in the microwave. The microwave display flashed on, neon green writing showing the clock set at 00:00. Add resetting the microwave clock to his list of things to do. The room was open plan, kitchen leading on to his dining area, a small square table pushed against the wall, three chairs surrounding it. He figured he didn’t need a massive table any more either; there were enough chairs for Pepper, Rhodey, and himself when he eventually got around to inviting them over. He winced at the thought.

He hadn’t exactly told Pepper he was moving. Well, not in person. Instead he left his letter of retirement/resignation from the company with her secretary and hopped into a van heading for Boston. And Rhodey… Rhodey had enough on his plate with the physio therapy. He didn’t need Tony around adding to his troubles. So Tony hadn’t exactly told him either. Or he had… in a roundabout way. He talked about how much he missed Boston, and how things were at MIT. He talked about looking for a new place, away from all the noise of the city. Rhodey seemed to think Tony was going to buy _another_ island (“Two is excessive, Tony.”). Tony hadn’t exactly thought to correct him, just shrugged it off and changed the topic. So inviting them to his new place was going to be… an experience. Though he couldn’t do that until he set up his internet, or got the phone lines connected. Another thing for the to do list.

He couldn’t call them anymore. Someone had leaked both his personal and work numbers to the press, he’d been harassed, abused, begged, and cursed out since. Not a second went by when he wasn’t getting a call or text asking for an interview or money or condemning him to hell. So he had to shut down everything on his phones. The repulsor blast which blew both his phones to ashes might have been overkill, but it got the noise, the ringtones, the vibrations to stop and just shut up. Better to destroy them. No one can hack into ashes. But Tony had yet to get a new phone. He had the ridiculous old phone Steve posted to him, but honestly… he didn’t want to touch the phone. He was meant to use it for one reason, only one reason. If he needed Steve. And he didn’t, never would. You can’t need someone who lies to you about…

Anyway, where was he? Oh yeah, the tour of the place. His dining room was also his very tiny living room. Just enough room for a loveseat sofa and a TV waiting to be hung up on the bracket on the wall. To add to his to do list. Boxes sat in the middle of the room, blocking the patio doors from view. They would open up onto his small garden, just big enough to have a small patio with metal table and chairs, weeds growing through the patio stones, and a very overgrown garden. Tame the garden. Add to his to do list. His bedroom also looked over the tiny garden, though up a floor. He lived in a small maisonette apartment, bedroom and bathroom upstairs. He had massive windows in his room, letting in a lot of natural light and making the place feel open and bright. The complete opposite of his workshop. His workshop was situated in the garage, tools lining the walls, Dummy already having knocked several off as he helped to organise the room. Dummy beeped happily when Tony entered the workshop, following him into the small room to pet Tony on the head. Tony returned the gleeful bot’s gesture as he patted the metal claw and strut. The workshop was mostly set up, some things needed rearranging now he was actually moved in, but it would do for a few days. The room also doubled as an office, his desk pushed into a corner and separated from the rest of the workshop by a screen. His laptop and tablet were piled on top of the mountain of paperwork he had promised he’d finish for Pepper. He promised her before he retired so it was only fair he finish them. But after he finished unpacking.

The kitchen was mostly unpacked by mid-afternoon, and the living room was completely finished. He still needed to make a start on the bedroom, or at least get his bed built. He could sleep on the sofa for the night, but he couldn’t imagine it being that comfy to be scrunched up on it. His stomach growled loudly. He had forgotten to get lunch, and he didn’t have anything in his fridge yet. Should probably go buy food. He grabbed his new keys, feeling the unfamiliar weight of them in his hand, and made sure his wallet was still in his jeans. Then he headed out, making sure to settle the fee with the moving van driver as he left.

The grocery store wasn’t too far from his place. About a twenty minute walk – there was no point in driving with the traffic the way it was. He wandered in, the whole situation feeling a bit novel and queer. Here was Tony Stark, billionaire dressed in a stained hoodie and ripped jeans, shopping in Whole Foods trying to figure out what the hell he was looking at. A white block of… well it wasn’t Jello, but it sure as hell wasn’t anything he recognised. Do you eat it? Is it soap? Should probably start with something more basic. Something he at least recognised.

“You look lost.”

Tony turned at the voice. A tall stranger greeted him, easy smile on his face as he tried not to laugh at Tony’s confusion over food/personal hygiene items. The stranger was easily six foot, maybe even 6’2”, slim but well-toned. He had broad shoulders and strong arms. Dark hair, trimmed short and quaffed up a little at the front, was half-hidden by a police cap, worn at a slight angle. Glasses sat on the bridge of his nose, thin lenses held together in a metal wire frame. He was dressed in a dark uniform, radio attached to his shoulder.

“A little,” Tony answered back honestly, “been a while since I cooked for myself.”

The stranger’s smile softened, sympathetic as if he understood everything that had ever happened to Tony, “breakup?”

Tony shrugged, “of sorts. I was never much of a cook.”

The stranger leaned over and picked up the weird white substance Tony was looking at. He chuckled to himself before setting it back down, “You might want to start with something a bit more basic than Tofu. I’ll help you if you want. I’m not terrible in the kitchen.”

“Thanks… that was Tofu?”

The stranger laughed, bright and cheery, “well now you’re getting my help whether you want it or not.”

Tony grinned and offered his hand, “Anthony, though my friends call me Tony. Well actually everyone does.”

“Anthony,” the man mused, “My name is Tiberius, Tiberius Stone.”

Ty helped him pick out some food, explained some simple recipes he’d been trying out lately. Tony made a mental note, trying to remember each and every step. Soon his basket was packed with fresh vegetables, a loaf of recently baked bread and half a dozen organic eggs from a local farm. They approached check-out, talking about anything that came to mind. Conversation flowed seamlessly, a back and forth until they were joking together. It was easy and pleasant, and left Tony feeling warm somewhere deep in his chest.

“Hey, I know this might be a bit forward, but can I buy you a coffee?” Ty asked.

“Oh-“ Tony was thrown through a loop, he hadn’t expected that.

Hadn’t been on anything even closely resembling a date since St- Nope, not going to think about that night. Ty had been nothing but kind. A date would be great. And after all, it’s just coffee, it’s hardly a marriage proposal.

Ty’s smile oozed confidence and charisma, like he knew Tony’s answer before Tony did.

“I’d love to. I know a place just down the street if you like.”

Ty nodded and carried one of Tony’s bags for him, as they left the store and headed for Tony’s favourite little independent coffee shop. The shop was always quiet and cosy, a small off the wall coffee shop themed around the mad hatter’s tea party. The booths were built to resemble giant tea cups, the tables covered in crisp white linens. You could get board games and packs of cards from a shelf at the back to play while drinking your coffee. A group of men were tucked in the corner playing poker and using cookies as their wagers. Some teenagers were crammed into a booth, yelling UNO at the top of their lungs whenever they could. It was a fun place where everyone minded their own business and played little attention to the world outside their own booth. Tony grabbed a booth while Ty bought them both coffee.

It was rare, no one ever tended to buy Tony things because- well he had more money than he knew what to do with. He normally just bought the coffee, or paid for the meal, or booked the flights. At college he remembered people promising to pay him back, but they never did and he knew, even then, that chasing people for that money would make him look cheap. Stingy. Unfriendly. So he paid for everything, even as he grew older. Pepper wanted new shoes, then he had the money for it. Clint needed a new part for his bow, then Tony would supply. Steve wanted some freedom, so Tony bought him a motorbike. Whatever he could do to make them happy, keep them around. Certainly didn’t work as well as he’d hoped.

Ty returned with two milky white coffees, both with two sugars. Usually he drank black coffee with one sugar, but milk was hardly going to kill him. Thanking him, he smiled and took a sip. He’d also bought two cakes, one chocolate, the other a vanilla sponge.

“Which would you prefer?” Ty offered kindly.

When Tony indicated to the chocolate, Ty pushed the plate towards him with a gracious grin. They tucked into their cakes, and chatted like there had been no break in the conversation. Ty dominated the conversation, talking about himself and his life, how he became an officer, which was fine for Tony, because he really didn’t want to go into his job or life. He was honestly just praying he could get through this without Ty recognising him and have a pleasant time.

“And so after the academy I settled here in Boston, and I’ve been working up the ladder since. Youngest Sergeant in my precinct-“ He puffed up, like a peacock making sure every feather was seen. “-and I’m hoping to make it to Lieutenant soon.”

“That’s amazing, I bet you’ll get that promotion, you seem like an amazing cop.”

“So what about you, Anthony, what do you like to do?”

Tony shrugged, “I suppose I like taking broken things and making them better.”

“Like a mechanic?”

Tony smirked, trying to hide his grin with his cup, “something like that.”

They chatted for several more hours, both forgetting about the groceries by Tony’s feet. The chilled foods were becoming a lot less chilled. They only began noticing the time when Ty glanced out the window and the world had darkened enough that street lights were coming on outside.

“We should get going,” he said, tone apologetic as though he’d rather do anything else.

“I had a lovely time,” Tony smiled, offering his hand, “I’d love to do it again sometime.”

He posed it carefully, an open ended question that didn’t demand a reply. Instead he bent down to pick up his groceries, avoiding Ty’s gaze. He needn’t have worried, as the tall, dark, and handsome stranger had nodded, helping with the other bag.

“I’d like that a lot.”

“Great.”

“How about I walk you home?”

They walked home together under the darkening sky, shadows moving around them as they passed under the street lighting. Ty refused to give Tony his other bag, saying he was being chivalrous. Tony had laughed at him and tried to snatch the bag away. Ty held it out of his reach, chuckling as Tony attempted jumping for it. When they finally reached Tony’s door, Ty slid the bag into Tony’s hand, using his own hands to cup Tony’s face. Leaning in, he pressed a light kiss to Tony’s lips. Letting his eyes fall closed, Tony dropped the bags to the floor, own hand coming to settle on Ty’s waist. The kiss turned harder, Ty pressing closer as he pushed Tony back against the door. His hands ran down, along Tony’s neck. One hand stayed at the back of Tony’s neck, holding him closer, holding him in place as the other hand settled against his ribcage, fingers pressing hard against him. Tony groped behind him to try and find the door handle. He needed this, god, did he need this. He managed to turn the handle, both of them tumbling into his hallway. Ty steadied them both with one hand, pushing closer against Tony, leg pushing between both of his. Tony gasped at the friction, hands grappling for purchase on Ty’s uniform.

“Where’s your bedroom?”

“Up- upstairs,” Tony whispered against Ty’s mouth.

He immediately went back in for a kiss, Tony letting himself be pressed, held against the wall. This is what he wanted, someone else to take control of him. But a thought popped into his head.

“I haven’t made the bed yet.”

“Don’t worry, after what we’re going to do, you’ll need to change the sheets anyway.”

Tony laughed, “not what I mean, I haven’t _made_ the bed yet. It’s a flat pack. I’ve just moved in, so everything is all over the place.

Ty dropped his head, leaning a hand against the wall, smirking up at Tony, “damn. How about-“ Ty began trailing his finger up and down Tony’s chest, getting dangerously close to the scars left by the arc reactor. Tony’s breath hitched as Ty skirted around one of the sunken lines left by a shield in a cold place. “-you build your bed tonight. Then tomorrow I take you out to dinner, and then we come back here to test it out,” Ty grinned down salaciously, before giving Tony a kiss, “sound good?”

Tony nodded dumbly, feeling a little giddy. He and Ty swapped emails, and bid each other goodnight with promises of tomorrow.

May 5th 2017 – 23:07pm

To do:

  * ~~Empty moving van of boxes and pay rental fee~~ ~~~~
  * ~~Organise boxes into their rooms~~ ~~~~
  * ********Build new Ikea bed****
  * ~~Build new Ikea Table and Chairs~~ ~~~~
  * Unpack boxes 
    * ~~Kitchen~~ ~~~~
    * ********Bedroom****
    * ~~Workshop and Garage~~ ~~~~
    * ~~Living Room~~ ~~~~
  * ~~Get lunch~~ ~~~~
  * Set Microwave clock
  * Invite Pepper and Rhodey over
  * Set Up Internet and new phone
  * ~~Hang TV on Bracket~~ ~~~~
  * Tame Garden
  * Go on date with cute supermarket guy @ 7pm




	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning - Non-Consensual Sex (Alcohol Involved)

#  ****Chapter 2 – Ever the Gentleman** **

May 6th 2017 – 15:16pm

To do:

  * ~~Build new Ikea bed~~ ~~~~
  * ~~Unpack boxes~~ ~~~~
    * ~~Bedroom~~ ~~~~
  * Set Microwave clock
  * Invite Pepper and Rhodey over
  * Set Up Internet ~~and new phone~~ ~~~~
  * Tame Garden
  * Go on date with ~~cute supermarket guy~~ Ty @ 7pm



The bed was built. He would have built it then and there, but Ty was being a gentleman, and Tony wasn’t all that used to that. There was Ste- let’s not think about that. Point being, Tony wasn’t used to being treated with such care by most of his partners. His bedroom was set up and ready, cleaned with such care and the windows thrown open to air out the room. Everything would be great.

The internet guy would be coming in 15 minutes which allowed Tony enough time to sort out his wardrobe. It basically divided into two categories. Shirts and jeans he wore constantly because they were so comfy. These were mostly his band t-shirts with a few hoodies hidden in his drawers. The other category was his fancy wear. He had office suits, event suits, press release suits, gala suits, every possible style and colour of suit available. Both of which left him with nothing to wear tonight. After sorting out his entire wardrobe, he settled on blue jeans with a navy sport jacket and a white t-shirt underneath. Dressed up enough, but not overly so. It would have to do, since Ty had refused to tell him where they were going.

They’d been texting back and forth all morning, Tony having finally managed to sort out his new phone and install Jarvis onto it. He'd emailed Ty his number and since then the conversation was non-stop. Ty had been sending the more explicit content about how much he enjoyed last night. The latest text made Tony smile. He’d sent a picture of the bed fully built and Ty wrote back:

_You might need to rebuild it after we’re done tonight ;)_

Tony smirked, quickly texting back:

_You mean you can rebuild it._

The doorbell rang, distracting Tony from his phone. He set it down on his desk and walked briskly to the front door. The Internet guy stood at the door. Kid looked barely out of his teens, chewing gum nonchalantly. He handed Tony the Wireless Router and strode into the house.

“Where’d ya want it?”

“Oh the office. Please,” Tony added, showing the kid to the spot he’d set aside for the router.

Set up took about 15 minutes, the two making painful small talk. Tony had no idea what the kid was on about, talking about a… well Tony thought it was a video game but he wasn’t certain. And the kid looked equally lost when Tony began explaining how Dummy worked, after the bot rolled over to inspect the new visitor. The kid wiped his hands on his jeans before prodding the bot with his screwdriver. Dummy beeped, and rolled away, hiding behind a large metal safe.

“What’s in there?” The kid asked, gesturing to the safe as he fitted the final wires into the router.

“Nothing special,” Tony answered simply.

No need to explain that the Iron Man armour was kept inside, locked away but available to Tony if needed. You know, just in case. He might be retired, but he wasn’t about to abandon Iron Man entirely. Shrugging, the kid stood from where he was bent over the router.

“You’re all done. If you have any problems, call the number on the back of the router.”

“Cool, thanks kid.”

The kid picked up his tools and let himself be shown back out by Tony. Realistically, Tony could have easily set up his own internet, but the house wasn’t wired in to the soon-to-be-rolled-out Stark Wifi. So he’d have to settle for store-bought. No matter how slow and annoying it was. He was about to head back to the office, when a buzzing sound caught his attention. His phone was almost vibrating off the sideboard he’d left it on. When he picked it up, he realised Ty was texting him and Tony had a fair few unanswered messages. Tony quickly answered.

 _I’ll build it if we can break it again after ;)_ _  
__So how’s your day going?_ _  
__What are you up to?_ _  
__Tony?_  
 _You there?_ _  
__Hellooooo?_

_Sorry, I’m here. I had someone round to sort out my internet._

_Was he cute?_

Tony puzzled a moment.

_Was who cute?_

_The internet guy_

_Only if you are into teenagers with a penchant for chewing gum loudly. Personally, I’m not a fan. I prefer tall, good-looking cops who plan on taking me out tonight._

_Yeah, about that, I’ve been trying to reach you. Just wanted to check you were still on for tonight._

Tony smiled at his phone, wandering to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. He typed out his answer with one hand, switching on the coffee machine with the other.

_Sure, why wouldn’t I be?_

_I don’t know. Maybe you traded up for a teenager with plenty of gum._

Tony smiled down at has phone, chuckling a little.

_Not a chance. See you tonight._

_Great, pick you up at 7._

_Perfect, where are we going?_

_Wait and see. Oh, and Tony?_

He waited for a moment to see if there was a follow up. When no second text seemed imminent, he replied.

_Yes?_

_Keep your phone on you :’)_

_But of course, I wouldn’t want to miss any more texts from you._

_See you later._

_Only if you’re seeing all of me ;)_

_Let me buy you dinner first._

Tony laughed at his phone, picking up his now brewed coffee and taking it to his office.

_Looking forward to it. My afternoon is just going to be filling out paperwork._

_Sounds fun. How much paperwork do mechanics have to fill out?_

_Too much._

_I’ll leave you to it for an hour, I won’t distract you ;)_

_You can distract me tonight ;)_

Tony opened up his laptop, quickly connecting it to the internet, before doing the same for his tablet and phone. His pocket holographic projector was synced to all devices. Tony brought up his calendar, scheduling Ty in for the evening since he hadn’t updated his calendar in about a week. Tony installed Jarvis into his systems, setting him up to have control of the house. It took about an hour to get everything set up in his office but well worth it. He needed to complete some work after all. Pardons and Accords were a lot of paperwork for a mechanic.

“Jay, what’s your progress?”

“Sensors and Voice is at 100%, however smart control of the TV, lighting, music, electric, gas, and water is taking longer than previously estimated. We are presently at 78.2% and should finish analysis and integration within approximately 34 minutes.”

“That’s great Jay, let me know when you’re in.”

In the meantime, Tony opened up his laptop to resume his current pet project. It had been something he’d been working on for around a year now, because as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he didn’t feel safe without them. The Avengers were needed. And it was his fault they weren’t here. All because he needed reigning in. So he was rewriting the Accords, going through everything with a fine-toothed comb. He looked for every improvement, everything they could possibly find fault with and looked for a minimum of three solutions per problem. But all of this would be useless unless the pardons appeal actually worked. T’Challa had been helping him as much as he could, but there was a limit to what the king could do when the situation fell within the United States. So Tony was mostly on his own, seeking advice from the king when he could. The appeal seemed to be going well. The public was out for blood, and they wanted Wanda’s most of all. Captain America was simply viewed as a criminal, the public not having any sort of strong opinions over his actions. No one seemed to really know Agent Barton’s and Agent Romanoff’s part in everything, and Scott Lang seemed to have been forgotten about completely. Sam Wilson and James Barnes seemed to be mostly ignored as well. Never mind the fact Captain America broke into a high security prison and broke out half a dozen prisoners. But the public were after Wanda, and the Government only seemed to follow what the public wanted in situations like these. So all he needed to do was change the public’s opinion. Easy enough, right? It hadn’t actually taken much. The public wanted blood, so he bled for them instead. Wanda was just a poor innocent young girl who grew up through civil wars, struggled through life, and eventually found her way to the Avengers. It was the Avenger’s fault, she was too young to go into the field, she should have had more training, and as head of the Avenger’s that was his fault, like everything else. So he set up these campaigns and soon the public was instead singing their praises and crying for exoneration. All Tony could do was hope the Government caved to the cries, and keep a low profile himself so he wouldn’t become the next target. And it was easy enough to keep a low profile, living in Boston. No one expected him to be here, especially not dressed in oil, grease, and paint stained jeans, and ripped ACDC shirts.

He opened up his emails and checked through. 47 emails from Pepper and 42 from Rhodey. He really should answer them. But glancing at his watch, he realised he didn’t have enough time to give a full explanation, so he sent them both an apology and promised to explain everything in full tomorrow. Then he rushed upstairs, jumping into the shower and scrubbing himself down. Fresh and ready, he got dressed, towelling his hair as he waited for the minutes to tick past. Finally, 7pm came around. Then 7:05. Then 7:10. Until at 7:30pm, Tony was wondering if Ty was even going to show up. Tony rang him, the phone ringing a couple of times before Ty answered.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Just waiting on you,” Tony answered, trying to hide his annoyance. If there was one thing he absolutely despised it was lateness. If Tony wasn’t ten minutes early he considered himself late. And this was beyond late.

“Sorry, yeah stuck in traffic. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Brilliant,” Tony said, though he could feel the edge in his voice, “forgot how bad traffic gets in the city. Do you know when you’ll get here?”

“Ten minutes maybe. Anyway, I should go. A cop really shouldn’t be on the phone while driving.”

“Yeah, It’d be a pain if you had to arrest yourself.”

“It’s a lot of paperwork,” Ty laughed, “almost as much as you mechanics have to suffer through.”

Tony chuckled, “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye.”

Ten minutes rolled round, and Tiberius rolled up. Tony pulled on his coat, and walked out the door. He hurried down his front steps, grinning at the man waiting for him, leaning against the driver’s door.

“Hope you brought your appetite.”

Tony nodded wordlessly, tongue caught in his throat.

Ty looked gorgeous, even out of uniform. Faded black jeans, dark blue dress shirt, and a tight leather jacket made for a winning combination. Ty opened the door for Tony, smiling as Tony slid onto the seat. Such a gentleman.

“Thanks for not pushing my head down like they do in the movies,” Tony quipped.

Ty laughed, and it should not have made Tony smile as much as he did, “not going to lie, I almost did. Habit of the job I’m afraid.”

“You can push my head down later,” Tony winked.

“That is so hot,” Ty kissed him, one hand coming up to grab at the back of Tony’s neck, pulling him closer. When they broke apart, Tony was panting. “Hi, by the way. Ready to go?”

Tony nodded, still trying to catch his breath.

The restaurant was gorgeous, opulent and expensive and probably way outside of the Sergeant’s budget. Tony didn’t want to ask, it seemed impolite to even insinuate he wouldn’t have enough money for the restaurant. After all Tiberius chose the restaurant. Tiberius ordered for him – “The steaks here are the best, you just have to have one.” – and the bottle of champagne he ordered as well. Ty had just one glass since he was driving, encouraging Tony to have as much as he liked.

“So Tony,” Ty leaned in over the table, his leg rubbing against Tony’s, “why’d you move to Boston?”

Tony ran his finger around the edge of his champagne flute, “I studied here for college and I just missed the city.”

“Where did you study?” Ty asked, leaning forward and resting a hand over Tony’s.

“MIT.”

“Oh wow, so I’m in the presence of a genius?”

“Yeah, _totally_ ,” Tony answered sardonically, “I’m a _real genius._ ”

“I bet you’re smarter than you think. But anyway, are any of your college friends still up here?”

Tony shook his head, then took a sip of his champagne, “I don’t think so. Most of them moved to other cities. A few are in Washington, a couple in New York. Most went to Houston.”

“So no friends up here? What about family?”

Again, Tony shook his head, “they… they aren’t around anymore.”

And he meant more than just his blood relatives. His parents, gone at the hands of the Winter Solider. Jarvis – the real one – died not long after his parents. And his team… well they weren’t around either.

“I’m sorry to hear that. It’s just me and my mom now. My dad and sister died in a car accident when I was thirteen.”

“I’m sorry.”

Ty shrugged, “it is what it is. It happened years ago. But I still miss them, you know?”

Tony nodded, taking another sip of champagne. The champagne was light, going down well with his crab cake starter. Ty topped up his glass with a smile, his own still half full.

Conversation turned to lighter topics. Ty discussed his day at work, laughing at Tony’s little quips and jokes. Tiberius ordered a bottle of red for them once the steaks came, pairing it nicely. Tony smiled at his suggestion – a vintage Montepulciano – because the man knew his wines. It sounded a little studied, like he wanted to impress Tony.

Ty definitely knew about the food though, clearly a passion of his. They discussed the recipes he’d suggested to Tony, chatting and laughing about the not-so-great attempts Tony had made. The first attempt at a frittata resulted in a fire alarm going off, the second actually caught fire, and the third was somehow cooked on the outside but not the inside, despite having been cooked for nearly forty minutes.

They moved onto desserts, chatting and laughing the entire time. Tony ordered a dacquoise, while Ty simply ordered a cappuccino.

“You’ve something of a sweet tooth, it seems,” he teased, smiling at Tony over the rim of his cup.

Tony smiled back bashfully, “yeah, I guess. Most people don’t notice.”

“Glad to know I’m not most people.” Ty stretched his hand out across the table, placing it over Tony’s. “You deserve better than just anyone.”

Despite himself, Tony could feel his cheeks heat and he had to drop his gaze.

There was a time he thought he had the best of people. He had a penchant for the finer things and he thought he found those things in Ste- Captain America. They were so close to something. But he didn’t know what that something was because it was gone now. Now there was Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes and Senior Airman Wilson and Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton and Mr Lang and Ms Maximoff. And then there was Tony. Somewhere else, sat in a restaurant with someone who says he deserves more.

“You think you could be that person then?” Tony teased.

Ty smiled, so genial and warm that Tony once more couldn’t look directly at him.

“I’d like to try.”

On the way back home, Tony began regretting those last few glasses of champagne, and what was basically the entire bottle of wine. But it had been so long since he last drank. He really thought he could handle more alcohol than that. His dad sure could, but maybe that was one of the few genes Tony didn’t actually inherit from his old man. The car ride was making him dizzy and just a little nauseated. He really shouldn’t drink so much. It had been a while since his last drink and he was very much a lightweight as it was. Ty had a hand on his thigh, stroking up and down. And that felt really good. Tony bit his lip to keep in a moan. Barely. Ty noticed anyway, smirking suggestively at Tony and then at Tony’s crotch.

“We’ll get you to bed soon enough,” Ty promised.

Once they arrived, Ty was pushing him through the door and guiding him up the stairs. Soon Tony was pressed to the bed, Ty leaning over him. Bruising kisses, sharp marks stood out stark against his skin. Ty pulled off his own shirt and pants, before tugging at Tony’s. Through the haze of champagne bubbles, Tony remembered one thought, distorted by alcohol and lust.

_Shouldn’t we do this properly. It’s going to hurt otherwise. Maybe we should wait._

But Ty was removing his clothes, pushed Tony onto his stomach, pinning Tony’s hands above his head, and then… well, Tony couldn’t actually remember much after that.

May 7th 2017 – 04:22am

To do:

  * ~~Build new Ikea bed~~ ~~~~
  * ~~Unpack boxes~~ ~~~~
    * ~~Bedroom~~ ~~~~
  * Set Microwave clock
  * Invite Pepper and Rhodey over
  * ~~Set Up Internet and new phone~~ ~~~~
  * Tame Garden
  * ~~Go on date with cute supermarket guy Ty @ 7pm~~ ~~~~
  * Buy aspirin. ~~~~
  * Drink a lot more water. ~~~~




	3. Chapter 3

#  ****Chapter 3 –**** ** **Breakfast at Tony’s****

May 7th 2017 – 05:01am

To do:

  * Invite Pepper and Rhodey over ~~~~
  * Set Microwave clock
  * Tame Garden ~~~~
  * Buy aspirin.
  * Drink a lot more water.



His head pounded at the ounce of light that came through his windows. His mouth felt like he had eaten cotton balls, and his vision was swimming in front of him. He lowered his head back onto the pillows. Until his stomach roiled and rioted. He had to move, and quick. He jumped from the bed, making it to the bathroom, and thankfully the toilet too. His stomach rejected everything he’d put into himself last night. After his stomach was done with its protest, Tony sat down on the cool tiles. Slowly, under the thrumming headache behind his eyes, he noticed an entirely foreign type of pain. A throbbing, aching, bruising pain between his legs. He pulled himself to his feet, realising for the first time that he was naked, not a thread on him. He turned to try and see himself in the mirror that stood in the corner. There were bruises to his neck, hickeys dotted all over him. A few scratches down his back but honestly Tony had suffered worse during drunken sexploits. But there was some bruising on his ass. Which was new. He honestly couldn’t remember anything that happened after they got in the house. He did remember wanting to take Ty upstairs, but after they got through his front door, it was like snippets of memory. He must have been really drunk.

“Morning, sunshine.”

Ty stood at the door to the bathroom, admiring Tony, bruises and all. Tony’s hands moved to cover his scars. He felt far more naked under Ty’s watchful eyes than he had ever experienced before. He expected Ty to ask about the marks; they weren’t subtle, in their darkened tones or their stark white lines. But instead Ty grinned like Tony was what he wanted to see in the morning.

“I’m going to make us breakfast,” Ty proffered, turning to walk downstairs.

Tony chased after him, tugging on a bathrobe as he went.

“What happened last night?”

“What do you mean?” Ty asked curiously, glancing over his shoulder as they kept heading towards the kitchen.

“I don’t remember much of it.”

“Well that’s a crying shame,” Ty laughed as he pulled eggs out of the fridge, “because you were having a great time. You were begging me to stay the night, euphemism and all.”

Tony groaned, sinking into a seat at his dining room table, laying his pounding head against the smooth wood, “I promise I’m not always so-“

“Drunk?”

Tony smiled against the wood, “I was going to go with slutty, but I prefer your word.”

“Don’t worry, I liked that side of you. Something no one else gets to see, right?”

Tony shrugged, not lifting his head. A dull thunk of something being placed on the table wasn’t even enough to rouse him. Only the robust smell of coffee was enough to stop him slipping into a coma on the kitchen table. It was milky and sweet, and drinking it didn’t really help with the nausea, but coffee was coffee after all. Tony drank deeply, the caffeine slowly waking up the rest of his systems, though it was struggling to get his brain back online. Ty was speaking to him, the noise comforting. Tony drifted off into a doze.

Only to awaken to Ty shaking his shoulder as he set eggs down. Tony opened one eye, finding a perfectly made omelette in front of him. It smelt delicious, some peppers and spinach cooked into the egg. Tony took the fork offered by Ty and began inhaling the food.

“Easy now, don’t want to make yourself sick.”

Tony forced himself to slow down. Ty was right, eating that fast would just make it come back out again. But after a few minutes the omelette had become soggy, and not the most delicious thing. Ty had been eyeing him as he ate. But now he stopped, Ty stopped as well, hand on his hip. He looked deliberately at the plate then back at Tony.

“Sorry, just a bit full now.”

Ty huffed, picking up the plate roughly, the china scraping across the table, “it’s a waste of food.” He tutted before picking up a fork and eating a few bites.

“I know,” Tony hastened to reply, “Sorry, just a bit full, and I’m still feeling a bit sick. It was really delicious.”

Ty pulled a face, “okay,” he relented, “it’s gone a bit cold,” he scrunched up his nose as he finished his mouthful, opening the trash can and scraping the omelette into the bin.

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I drank too much last night, and I’m still feeling a bit sick. I ruined our breakfast.”

Ty’s face softened at Tony’s words, “Don’t worry, I forgive you. How about we go back to bed and sleep for a couple of hours? We certainly didn’t sleep much last night.”

Ty winked at him over his shoulder as he headed back to the bedroom, leaving Tony standing alone in the kitchen, really wishing he remembered something of last night.

Tony did go back to bed with Ty, this time just to sleep. He woke a few hours later, as the bed shifted beneath him. Ty pressing down on the mattress.

“Where y’going?” Tony garbled against the pillow.

Ty ran a hand through Tony’s hair, “just needed to use the bathroom but I’m back now. Go back to sleep.”

Tony fell back asleep quickly, hangover pulling him into the warm confines of his duvet.

By the time he woke up, the apartment was empty. Tony checked his phone for a text from Ty but there wasn’t anything. Instead he found a note pinned to the fridge with a magnet.

_Sorry Tony, had to get to work. I’ll give you a call at 5pm. Don’t forget your phone this time._

Oh, he had work. Fair enough. Surely it would have been easier to text that. Though, if Ty thinks he never has his phone on him then maybe it was for the best he left a note. Tony went to his office, and opened his laptop. He sat there, staring at his screen. He had no emails, not a single one. He had had nearly 50 from Pepper alone and now his inbox was wiped clean, save for the odd spam message. A glitch in the system, maybe? It didn’t seem likely but Jarvis was still settling into his new home, getting used to being run on the new compact servers Tony had designed just for him. He checked his deleted, his spam folders, and all his multiple addresses. Nothing from Pepper or Rhodey. Thankfully, the secret email address he’d been using to contact T’Challa in regards to the new accords and the pardon plea seemed unaffected by this technical glitch.

He’d made sure this email was untraceable; the trace being bounced all over the world several times a second. No chance of anyone finding out that he was working to pardon the Avengers after everyone. These emails were coded, the code developed by the King’s sister. It was unbreakable. Tony had tried. Multiple times. The encryption was stronger than anything he’d been able to develop before. So the media sure as shit weren’t getting their hands on any of the new drafts of the accords. But that didn’t change the fact he’d lost all of his emails from Pepper and Rhodey.

“Jay, have we had a malfunction?”

“Not that I am aware of sir, however there was a power cut at 11am which did render me unavailable for the following 12 minutes.”

“Backup generators not working?” Tony queried his AI.

“Not yet sir, I am waiting for the compatibility check with the new servers.”

“Surveillance? I thought I had cameras set up?”

“You have, sir, however the power cut resulted in a system reboot, losing all footage from the midnight last night until 11:12am.”

“That’s- That’s not good. I have to fix that. Right, need to add that to the to-do list. That and call Pepper and Rhodey. Can you add those to my to-do list?”

“Of course sir. Would you like those tasked to be ranked more or less important that setting the microwave clock?”

Tony chuckled, “I wouldn’t mock me if I were you, I can always donate you to MIT. We’re so much closer to it now, just a trip up the road. They’d have so much fun reverse engineering you.”

“I’m terrified,” the computer deadpanned in response.

“But yeah, both of those as more important. Make Pep and Rhodey-bear top of the list, I need to do that today. And make sure I reply to T’Challa. Can’t leave a king waiting, can I? Would the blackout cause me to lose all my emails off one account?” Tony pondered to himself.

But of course, the AI answered, “usually not. There is the potential that you have been hacked by the media.”

Tony’s heart froze in his chest, for a moment feeling the imagined weight of the arc reactor settle in his chest once more. They couldn’t have. It wasn’t possible to hack his servers. Hell, they couldn’t even hack his phone when they had his number. With enough time maybe, but Jarvis had alerted him. So how on earth would they have hacked his far better protected emails? They couldn’t have. And it seemed strange that only his contacts’ emails had been deleted. Software issue. Must be a software issue.

He was about to call Pepper when his phone rang. Ty was calling him, the name adorned with a heart emoji on his display. God, Tony knew he was a dork but still, to be so smitten so fast felt worrying. He wasn’t usually one to fall head over heels but Ty was so sweet to him, cooking him breakfast and looking after him when he was hanging out his ass. He answered the phone, grinning from ear to ear.

“Hey Tony, free tonight? I managed to finish up the last of my paperwork so I think I can get out early.”

“I have a little bit of work to do, but I’m sure I can make myself free,” Tony teased lightly.

He could almost hear Ty smile down the phone, “I’m glad to hear that, because we have plans tonight.”

“Oh we do, do we? And what plans are those?”

“Well, how about you, me, and a drive out of the city to a town where nobody knows our names?”

And now Tony was beaming impossibly brighter, trying not to let his glee show quite so much in his voice.

“I say if there is chocolate cake, I’m in.”

He puffed up in pride as he heard Ty laugh brightly.

“For you, my dear, I think I can manage chocolate cake.”

“Great, I’ll see you later.”

“Sure, 8pm sharp.” Ty hung up, leaving Tony grinning at his phone.

Dammit. He was head over heels.

Tony had about an hour of free time, so he figured he better check one of the items off the to do list. Phone still in hand, he dialled, knowing he needed to make the call but dreading the first five minutes. He was right to dread it.

“Hello?” greeted a familiar voice, “hello? Is anyone there?”

“Hi Pep.”

“TONY,” shrieked Pepper, before dropping into a more acceptable tone “What the fuck were you thinking?!”

“I can explain-“

“You resign - you don’t even do it in person, leaving a note with my assistant – and then disappear. Where the hell have you been? Where are you? Are you okay? Last time you disappeared like this, I thought you died, for those three months I thought you’d-”

“Pep, Pep, I’m fine, okay? I haven’t been kidnapped. I’m fine, I promise. I just- I needed to get away from the city for a bit. Though I think a bit might actually turn into a while,” he said, unable to keep the giddy feeling away from his voice.

And he could almost see Pepper narrow her eyes in suspicion, “what do you mean?”

“I’ve met someone. It’s early days but I like them.”

“Oh Tony-“

“Don’t worry; it isn’t another superhero, though actually I guess he kind of is, just not in the ‘injected with super-serum’ or ‘turning into a rage monster’ or a ‘literal God’ kind of way. He’s sweet and kind and-“

“Tony, hold on a second. You disappear, ignore my emails-“

“I didn’t ignore them, I’ve been busy settling into my new place, and when I went to answer them all of them had gone. A glitch or something.”

“Gone?” Pepper sounded astounded, and honestly, he couldn’t blame her, “a glitch? You’re Tony Stark; your systems don’t have glitches.”

Tony shrugged, before pinning the phone to his ear. He walked into the kitchen and set his coffee maker going. “what can I say, there’s a first time for everything.”

“Okay, but are you okay? You freaked us out.”

“Us?”

“Rhodey too you dipshit. We were worried when you just took off like that. Last time you pulled a stunt like this you ended up on a racing track in Monaco.”

Tony considered for a moment, “you’re right. I’m sorry. I should have told you, explained things beforehand.”

“You can explain things now,” she said softly, like an afterthought.

Tony sighed, pushing a hand through his hair, “Like I said, I needed to get away. I’m just, I’m so tired Pep. Of the media, of the questions, of having to have an answer for all the questions-“

“I know Tony but-“

“And I needed a break and I wanted to be able to walk the streets without being recognised and I thought-“

“Where better than where you went to college?”

“Exactly! They won’t think I’ll come back here. Technically I think I’m still banned from coming back here.”

“That’s a terrible plan. One of the more terrible plans you’ve had.”

“It’s worked so far,” Tony protested.

Once more, it was like he could see Pepper roll her eyes. She might as well be in the room with how real that image seemed to him. So overwhelming was the thought, that he was hit with a sudden pang in his chest, an ache he didn’t want to have. He rubbed a hand over his sternum, feeling the rough raised skin of his scar.

“It’s been two days. I don’t want to burst your bubble but the only reason you’ve been left alone is because the media hasn’t realised you’ve left New York.”

“Well when they do realise, they won’t know where to search.”

“But Tony… why now? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Tony sighed, leaning his forehead against the kitchen cabinet as he waited on the coffee pot to fill. He didn’t want to answer either of those questions. He didn’t want to admit that if Pepper asked him to stay, he would’ve; no matter how miserable it would made him he would always stay if Pepper asked him. He didn’t want to explain that every second spent in the tower that they had all once shared felt like agony – that every time he came home to an empty living room, unable to make jokes with Clint, or spar with Natasha, or explain Midgardian customs to Thor, it reminded him of his failings. And the new facility was worse, walking down empty corridors, trying to lead a team that was never his to lead, that wasn’t even around any more. That was when Steve’s absence hit him hardest. It wasn’t when he was watching movies on his own, or when he stumbled back drunk from charity galas on his own, not even when he curled up in his double bed, hand reaching out to feel warmth that wasn’t there any more. That never compared to the feeling, the empty pit in his chest at watching what they’d built together slowly fall apart because Tony couldn’t be enough to keep his mismatched family together. He didn’t want to put that feeling into words. The coffee pot beeped so he poured himself a cup and sipped.

“It’s a bit late in the day for coffee,” Pepper reprimanded absently, more from habit than actual desire to stop Tony drinking his caffeine filled ambrosia.

“I didn’t tell you,” Tony began, “because it was impulsive,” came the sort of lie that followed.

He’d been fantasising about moving for months but he’d never had a plan. Not until three days ago when the vintage (depressingly out of date) phone that had been sent in the mail by an old friend had beeped with a text. A message that simply read ‘How are you doing?’. And there wasn’t an answer to that question. He was simply doing, still going. There was no how. He had never considered the how. And once he did, he realised that he couldn’t any more. He realised that he needed to escape, leave the Avengers behind. So he switched the phone to silent – unable to throw it away, just in case aliens came raining down again – opting to throw it at the bottom of a cardboard box and pile all his shit on top of it. And then he just packed up everything else, threw a huge amount of money at a Realtor and managed to move into his new place within the day.

“I didn’t really think about it.”

“You thought about it enough to write a resignation letter,” Pepper commented, but the accusation was missing from her voice.

“I guess,” Tony gave a one shouldered shrug, choosing not to tell her that that resignation letter had been sitting in his draft emails for months. All he had to do was click Print. He carefully balanced his phone on his shoulder, pushed to his ear, as he brought his coffee cup to his lips, “you know I’m not the best at this stuff.”

“Understatement,” Pepper agreed, “so,” and he could hear the smile in her voice. He’d never not be grateful for her patience with him, “tell me about your new bae.”

“You did not just say bae, have you been hanging out with Peter?”

“You’re the one who hired him as our summer intern. You can blame yourself entirely for my new up-to-date slang.”

“Up-to-date?” Tony laughed, “Bae is _so_ Twenty-fourteen.”

“Still more hip than you.”

Tony choked on a laugh, and consequently, choked on his coffee. Spluttering, he gasped for breath while gasping on his laughter too. Pepper was chuckling at him down the phone.

“I’m cool,” Pepper mock-grumbled.

“No, we’re old-“

“You did not just call me old.”

“Well we’re too old to be hip. Mostly because we still say hip.”

“Stop changing the subject, tell me about your new boyfriend.”

Tony blushed. Boyfriend, they were hardly there yet. He expressed as much to Pepper.

“Please, I can tell when you’re smitten. Remember, I dated you.”

“I totally wasn’t smitten with you.”

“You bought me a giant bunny rabbit,” Pepper replied in a flat tone.

“I still maintain that was a great present.”

“It was twelve feet tall-“

“Which made it a great present.”

“Stop stalling and tell me about him.”

And so Tony did. He spoke about their meet-cute, and how they spent hours talking after. How it was so easy and how Ty was charming in a way that seemed so natural. Not like Tony’s camera smile and cue-card charisma. He talked about the giddy feeling he felt at receiving every text message, and how his stomach was turning somersaults in excitement for tonight. He talked about Ty making him breakfast in the morning, and leaving him notes to say where he’d gone. He talked about how Ty looked after him after the hangover.

“Sounds too good to be true,” Pepper teased good-naturedly before pausing.

When the silence stretched out too long Tony asked, “Pep, you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m just thinking. You were drunk when you slept together? He wasn’t?”

“Uh-huh, he was driving so he couldn’t drink.”

“And you had a lot to drink?”

“Waaaay too much,” Tony admitted, “won’t be doing that again.”

“And he still slept with you?”

“Wow, rude. I’m not that much of a sloppy drunk. Plus, apparently I was begging for it.”

“You said he’s a cop?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Isn’t that a bit- never mind.” Pepper cut herself off, “What’s your place like?”

“I’m living a minimalistic lifestyle now.”

“So it’s small,” Pepper snorted a laugh.

And once more, Tony could almost see her, sat with him at his dinner table, chin in the palm of her hand as she rested her elbow on the wooden surface, fingers curling up towards her cheek. He could see her eyes glimmer with partially hidden amusement, and her hair tumbling onto her shoulders, naturally wavy because she only ever straightened it for work.

“Come visit,” Tony blurted.

“Sure,” Pepper replied easily, apparently waiting for Tony’s sudden demand, “when do you want me to come? I’m sure the boss would let me have the time off work, I hear she’s an easy-going girl.”

“She’s certainly got endless patience. And how about next week, Saturday? You and Rhodey. And can you tell him I’m okay and that I’ll call him tomorrow afternoon?”

“Of course. Will that be all, Mr Stark?” she asked jokingly.

“Yes, that will be all, Miss Potts.”

May 7th 2017 – 19:03pm

To do:

  * Go on romantic dinner with gorgeous police-officer.
  * Call ~~Pep and~~ Rhodey-bear
  * ~~Invite Pepper and Rhodey over~~ ~~~~
  * Install backup generators
  * Configure security system to run on backup generators.
  * Reply to T’Challa
  * Set Microwave clock
  * Tame Garden ~~~~
  * Buy aspirin.
  * ~~Drink a lot more water.~~ ~~~~




	4. Chapter 4

#  ****Chapter 4 – Business, Books, and Games** **

May 8th 2017 – 1:05pm

To do:

  * ~~Go on romantic dinner with gorgeous police officer~~ ~~~~
  * Call Rhodey-bear
  * ~~Install backup generators~~ ~~~~
  * ~~Configure security system to run on backup generators.~~ ~~~~
  * Reply to T’Challa
  * Set Microwave clock
  * Tame Garden ~~~~
  * ~~Buy aspirin.~~ ~~~~



The date with Ty had been sweet and romantic. Their table was reserved in a tiny little restaurant hidden in a town in the middle of nowhere. Candles were lit and food served. They’d talked about everything. And Tony meant everything. They talked about their childhoods, even if Tony gave a heavily edited version of his. They talked about their dreams, what they wanted to do and see and be. Ty once wanted to be a farmer, and an astronaut. Tony had once upon a time wanted to be a pianist but told Ty that his father never supported him. He told him about the nights when he couldn’t sleep and his mother teaching him to play Mozart and Chopin in the early hours of the morning. They shared stories of school years, state school vs boarding school and the hijinks they both got up to. Ty told him about the pranks they used to pull at the police academy, once filling an Officer’s locker with whipped cream and tinsel. Tony laughed himself silly when he did. Every minute was one Tony wanted to stay in forever. But the night ended and Ty kissed him goodbye at the door, and they promised to see each other next week which was now this week.

He’d finally managed to get the last backup generator installed. Everything seemed to be running beautifully. And once that was set up, he opened his laptop, bringing up emails he’d been trying to put to the back of his mind. The accords. T’Challa had sent him over his review and opinion on Tony’s amendments and now Tony had to review those and implement it. It was never ending and always changing. Even opening the document made his breath catch in his throat. But open it he did. And change it he did. And then he sent it to his most trusted lawyers. Only then did he stop and switch on the news. Some chat show was playing, discussing his disappearance from social circles. Apparently three days of not being seen meant he’d disappeared. He placed his head in his hands, elbows propped up on the desk. He could only laugh. Bitter, mirthless, but a laugh nonetheless. Because this was the life he’d lived for so long, a life with no privacy, a life of always being seen. The women chatted away, commenting on how they thought he was holed up on his private island with some blonde bodacious babe. Current bets were Gigi Hadid. He didn’t even know who that was. An email pinged into his inbox. Pepper. Good, the emails were working again.

_Hey Tony,_

_I got your last message, thought I’d resend this one since you’ve been having trouble with your emails. The Director of the Board has managed to push it through, and the stockholders will see their dividends returned. But it will take about six maybe seven weeks maximum to iron out the details, however, I’d estimate I can get it done in four._

That, that was good news. A code. It seemed like she’d been able to push through the pardons on the Avengers, and that it would only be another four weeks before they could all come back to the states.

_Don’t forget to call Rhodey, I told him to expect your call at 2pm. Don’t make a liar out of me!_

_Best regards,_

_Pepper_

Well, he couldn’t do that to Pepper. So he picked up his phone and dialled.

“Hey Rhodey,” Tony greeted, the moment his friend answered the phone.

“Tony, how are you?”

Tony shrugged, taking a moment to realise Rhodey couldn’t see it, “I’m okay.”

“Pepper tells me you have a new beau.”

Rolling his eyes hard, Tony sighed heavily down the phone, “not a beau, or bae, or boyfriend, or whatever other weird terms you two have decided to call him. We just met, seeing how things go.”

“Well you can tell me all about him when we come round on Saturday.”

“I’m not going to say one word,” Tony laughed, “I’m not giving you anything.”

“We’ll see, you’ll let something slip.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yuh-huh.”

“Whatever, I’ll see you Saturday. You and Pep better bring house-warming presents.”

“I have the perfect potted plant picked out.”

Tony smiled all day after his call with Rhodey. And things only got better once his lawyer replied to him and said there were no other things he could think of to amend. So he forwarded on the feedback to T’Challa. Within moments his phone rang.

“Your Highness,” Tony greeted, trying to ensure his respect for the king was in his tone.

There was something strange about the young king, wise beyond his years - wiser than Tony - and humble but his humour and good nature still shone through.

“Mr Stark, pleasure to hear from you again. You sound well.”

“As do you. I take it this isn’t a personal call,” Tony chuckled, “you got my message?”

“Yes, and the… book-“ Tony could hear the disdain in the King’s voice at the coded language- “is looking good. Your plot is coming along nicely.”

“And the game I lent you?”

“I am ready to send it back, I believe I have almost completed it.”

“Not too violent for you.”

“No,” the king said, his tone gentled, “there were moments of violence but the story was much more sombre than I expected. I don’t think I have found every… side story, but the main story has been completed.”

Tony nodded, pondering. Barnes had nearly all his memories back then. Or at least the ones that defined people: family; friends; important moments in life. If he couldn’t remember what he had to eat for breakfast on the last Friday the 13th then it wouldn’t be the end of the world. He could live with that.

“That’s good. Oh, Pepper said the Board of Directors are on our side, so it should only be another seven weeks at the most.”

“That is good news. I am sure your customer’s will be most pleased with the results. If that is everything…?”

“One last thing,” Tony was biting on his thumbnail, “no one knows I lent you the game, right? I’d hate for people to know I am so childish.”

The King sighed, and Tony was sure that if video chat was on he’d be shaking his head too, “no one knows how childish you are, beyond you and I.”

“What about business? And the book?”

“News of your business and book will not come from me. If you wish for your audience to find out, you must tell them.”

Tony nodded, still chewing on his finger nails. That’s a relief at least. They didn’t know he was involved. At least that means they wouldn’t reject the new Accords out of hand just because he wrote them. He couldn’t even blame them, he would reject them too if he knew they came from him.

“I must go now.”

“Yeah, sure,” Tony answered absently, mind already drifting to any more amendments he could make to the accords, “got a country to run and everything. Sorry for taking up your time.”

“It is no issue at all. I hope you have a good afternoon.”

“Bye.”

The phone call cut out, leaving Tony with three beeps before it went back to his home screen. There was a message from Ty. Tony grinned as he opened it.

_Missing you x_

Tony quickly tapped out a reply.

_Missing you more. Think you can come over tonight?_

A reply came almost as quickly.

_I’m on desk duty until 7pm. I’ll be over after._

_Sounds perfect x_

May 8th 2017 – 6:55pm

To do:

  * ~~Call Rhodey-bear~~ ~~~~
  * ~~Reply to T’Challa~~ ~~~~
  * Set Microwave clock
  * Tame Garden




	5. Chapter 5

#  ****Chapter 5 – Champagne Stars** **

May 9th 2017 – 9:00am

To do:

  * ~~Shut off that stupid alarm clock-~~ ~~~~
  * Set Microwave clock
  * Tame Garden



The alarm rang out, jolting Tony from his uneasy sleep. Ty hadn’t stirred beneath him, tired from working the day before. Tony quickly shut off the alarm. He didn’t want to wake Ty up. He took a shuddering, jilted breath; remnants of his dreams still chased him. He ran shaking hands over his face, trying to even out his breathing.

_He was cold. Gusts of wind kicked flakes of snow, dust, and ash into the air around them. He could feel that anger, that betrayal burning in him. It burnt until it burnt out. And then he was left with nothing but the cold inside. The anger felt so long ago. But the cold, it was present. It was him. There was ice in his bones, and snowflakes settled on his skin. A shadow loomed over him and that shadow was the fire and that shadow was the ash. And the hands of fire, fingers of flames licking across the surface, held a shield marred with dust and blood. The fire raised it high, and slammed it down. And the ice that was his bones cracked, his rib cage_ _melting_ _into hollow nothingness. And now there was no snow. There was no fire. There was only dust._

The images were so real, so vivid. He shivered, pulling himself out of bed. He tucked the sheets around Ty, before padding downstairs in his bare feet.

Last night had been amazing. They hadn’t even done anything, just sat and watched movies together. Ty laughed when Tony mimicked the dialogue, and Ty’s commentary had Tony in stitches. It felt sweet and right, and scary. Scary how perfectly they seemed to fit together. They’d only known each other for four days but it had felt like such a rush. A dive into unknown waters; a jump off a bridge into freefall; a flight into heights that he’d never reached. It felt like more than just a crush.

So Tony spent the next half hour in the kitchen, making coffee and cooking breakfast. He followed all of Ty’s advice. He fried the eggs and bacon gently, salting the yolks slightly. He flipped the pancakes, the food falling in a graceful arc back into the pan. The toaster popped up just as he began to start plating the eggs and bacon. He heard Ty come downstairs, making his way towards Tony. He wrapped an arm around Tony’s waist and kissed his neck.

“Well, would ya look at that, you’re good for something.”

“Ha Ha,” Tony deadpanned.

“He can be taught,” Ty replied, picking up a piece of bacon. He chewed on it, assessing Tony’s cooking. “You pass,” he congratulated once he finished his mouthful.

“Thanks,” Tony pushed bacon around the frying pan, glowing inside. He’d finally actually managed to cook something that was edible.

He plated up his own meal and sat with Ty at his kitchen table. They ate in peaceful silence. Ty rubbed his ankle against Tony’s, as they shot each other small smiles and flirty glances.

“Do you have plans this evening?” Ty asked, finishing the last of his breakfast before carrying his and Tony’s empty plates to the sink.

“No.”

“Brilliant, keep the evening free. I want to take you somewhere.”

The evening rolled around and Tony waited somewhat impatiently by his front door. Time ticked on and on and although Ty hadn’t given him a set time, Tony really wanted that time to be now. Soon enough the doorbell rang. Tony answered it with embarrassing speed. But when he opened the door, Ty stood in front of him, looking up at him with a smitten grin that was sure to match his own. He was dressed casually – jeans and a t-shirt – though not without effort. The outfit looked put together, belt matching his shoes and jeans fitting so well they might as well be tailored. Tony unashamedly stared at his ass when they walked to the car. Ty opened the door, offering a hand for Tony to use as he lowered himself into the driver’s seat.

“So where are we going?”

“You’ll find out when we get there.”

Tony laughed, “Are we keeping secrets now?”

“Everybody has something to hide,” Ty chuckled along with him, “And for me, that would be where we’re going. What have you got to hide?”

“Maybe someday you’ll find out,” Tony chuckled, but he could feel his hands go clammy. He didn’t want Ty to know. He wanted to be just Tony. He wanted that more than anything. He hadn’t been just Tony in… since he was… Had he ever been just Tony? His life was a performance from the moment he was born. “I don’t normally like other people driving me, but for you, Officer, I’ll make an exception.”

“So that’s what you’re hiding,” Ty teased, “you have a thing for the uniform.”

“Dang, you got me. I love a guy in uniform.”

They drove out of the city, chasing the sun west into the country. The sky was painted in shades of ochre and gold, azure blue fading into a darker midnight. Ty put the roof down, letting the winds catch their voices and carry them into the approaching night. The fragments of sun clung to them, keeping the evening cold off their skin. They sung loudly to the music that blasted from the car speakers. Tony threw his hands into the air, laughing at the weight that seemed to blow away from his shoulders. Ty glanced at him; grinning in joy that seemed to consume them both, protect them like a shield from the world.

They turned off the I-90, heading south, turning down quieter roads. The cars and buildings turned to trees and rocks. Eventually, they pulled up in a carpark. Tony looked around, seeing the last dregs of sunlight struggle through the trees.

“A national park?”

Ty smiled at him, a nervous twitch of his hand against the steering wheel betraying his calm, “yeah, come with me.”

Tony got out the car, Ty already out and pulling a basket out of the boot. He took Ty’s offered hand and walked with him through the forest. They stumbled over rocks, and walked through underbrush, plants grasping at their legs, holding Tony back. Ty pulled him forward, stopping in front of him.

“We’re here.”

They had stopped in front of a small waterfall, moonlight starting to force its way through the trees and ripple across the water. Tony admired the view, the silver light making the water look like mercury, the stars shining like broken glass above their little clearing. He turned back when a soft light flowed over him. Ty had lit candles, small tea lights in stained glass holders. They were placed on a gingham blanket, holding it down from disturbance of the night winds. He had spread out plates of food on the blanket. Knives and forks were laid out. A pop disturbed the silence.

“Champagne?” Ty offered, filling a glass.

Tony took it by the stem, twirling it between his fingers.

“What are we celebrating?”

Ty shrugged, “do I need a reason to treat you?”

Tony settled himself down on the blanket next to Ty, leaning against his chest. He sipped the champagne with a smile, it sparkling like the stars above him across his tongue. “I guess not.”

“Maybe I just like spoiling you.”

Tony leaned up and kissed him.

They enjoyed the foods, the candles providing just enough warmth to keep the chill at bay. Tony was just the right side of tipsy, curled up against Ty.

“I have a confession,” Ty murmured, kissing the top of Tony’s head, “I know who you are-”

Tony could feel himself tense; sit up a little straighter despite himself. He should have known this was coming.

“But I don’t care. I wanted to be the person who knows you. Who really knows you, and not just judges you on what they’ve heard or what you can offer. I know what that’s like, to be judged. Though my verdict was different. I wanted to judge you on your own merit.”

Tony ran his finger around the rim of his champagne flute, avoiding Tiberius’ eyes. “What’s my verdict?”

Ty took his hand, kissing the back of it. “Well, let’s just say I’m really glad I stopped you buying tofu.”

That hand that could have so easily crushed his heart loosened. Instead butterflies seemed to fly around his stomach. He felt like things were okay. Like he’d been forgiven, because he’d been given this.

Tony relaxed against Ty, turning to rest a hand on his cheek. He directed Ty’s eyes to his instead of where he’d nervously averted his gaze. He leaned up and kissed Ty’s lips, softly. There was so much he wanted to say, but he tried to express it with a kiss first. He didn’t want to say it out loud.

“I love you.”

Damn, the words slipped out anyway. But he didn’t want to take them back. The truth was there in front of them, hanging and so fragile.

But Ty burst into sunshine, his smile so wide and bright that it shone in the dim light. “I love you too.”

The candles were burning low, but Tony felt warmth in his chest where only that morning he’d felt cold.

“I’m sorry I lied to you, pretended I didn’t know who you were. I just… I got the feeling you didn’t want to be Tony Stark any more. That you wanted to breathe and be yourself.”

Tony nodded, wrapping Ty’s arm around his shoulders. “Thank you for letting me be me.”

Ty held out his pinkie to Tony. “No more secrets between us?”

“No more secrets,” Tony agreed, linking his little finger and they shook once.

They finished the bottle of champagne, toasting to each other, and the stars, and a little grocery shop in the middle of Boston.

They made love, wrapped in a gingham blanket. It was so different from the first time that Tony could barely remember. This felt like the start of something, something brand new and entirely his. Something untainted by him and his past. He wouldn’t ruin this. He promised himself that much. He would fight with everything he had to protect this from himself.

May 9th 2017 – 10:53pm

To do:

  * Set Microwave clock
  * Tame Garden




	6. Chapter 6

#  ****Chapter 6 – Facing Forward** **

May 12th 2017 – 9:00am

To do:

  * Plan a meal for Pepper and Rhodey
  * Buy Ingredients for the meal
  * Set Microwave clock
  * Tame Garden



He and Ty spent every moment they could together. Ty was constantly bouncing between work, his own apartment and Tony’s place. They were lying idly on Tony’s love seat, Ty at Tony’s back as they watched a film together. He ran his fingers down Tony’s arm.

“What are your plans for the weekend?”

Tony was practically vibrating in excitement, “I’m seeing Pepper and Rhodey.”

“Who are they?” Ty asked, canting his head with his question.

“They’re my best friends, Pepper runs Stark Industries, and Rhodey is War Machine.”

It felt so freeing being able to talk about this openly. No secrets.

“Wow, high-powered friends.”

“Yeah, but they’re harmless. Closest thing I have to family, really.”

“If that’s the case, I’d love to meet them.”

Tony sat up, looking Ty in the eyes. They’d said they loved each other, but was it too soon to introduce Ty to Pepper and Rhodey. They were the only friends he had. Or they were the only friends he hadn’t driven away; the only friends he had left.

“Maybe next time?”

“I thought we weren’t keeping secrets from each other any more.” Ty’s tone was light and teasing.

And he had a point. They did promise. Maybe saying no would do more harm that good. Biting his lip, Tony considered for a moment more. Honestly, why was he apprehensive? There was no reason to be. Ty was great, and he was sure he’d get on with Pepper. They shared the same no nonsense attitude. And he and Rhodey both had a great sense of humour. It would go well.

“Okay, they’re coming for dinner and drinks on Saturday. Want to help me plan what to cook?”

“Sure,” and Ty was beaming.

Tony had definitely made the right decision.

“So we could do chicken kievs for dinner? Maybe with some mash potato and green beans?” Ty suggested, picking up a packet of fresh green beans.

“Sure, I have no idea how to make that, but you’ll help me, right?”

“I’ll find you a recipe to follow. I’ve got to work on the dessert.”

“Oooh, what are you going to make?”

Ty smirked, “something that could almost compare to your sweetness.”

Tony blushed, taking Ty’s hand and swinging it back and forth. He picked up some tender stem broccoli and chantenay carrots to add to their basket. Ty picked up some garlic and parsley, pulling Tony into the dairy isle to grab butter.

“If we’re doing kievs, we’ll need milk, breadcrumbs, eggs – we’ll get a dozen – and chicken.”

“Potatoes too,” Tony added, “if we’re doing mash.”

They wandered up and down the aisles, gathering ingredients. Ty piled in fresh blueberries, raspberries, and blackberries, as well as flour, cream, caster sugar and powdered sugar.

“What are you making?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“I thought we said no more secrets,” Tony teased, parroting the words Ty used that morning.

“A surprise is different from a secret,” Ty answered sagely, “A secret is something people are never meant to find out. But a surprise-“ he wrapped his arm around Tony’s waist, tugging him closer and kissing the top of his head- “is something that you’ll find out if you have patience. Something I’m learning you have very little of. Frankly it’s embarrassing how little patience you – a grown man – have.”

Tony rolled his eyes, and chuckled, “Yeah, patience isn’t my strong suit.”

“Nor is cooking,” Ty reminded.

“Agreed, but that’s why I have you. I need someone to feed me.”

“And don’t you forget it, you need me and my culinary skills. I’ll teach you how to julienne, mince, and sauté with the best of them.”

Tony was watching as Ty showed him how to best prep the vegetables. They laughed and danced to the radio, singing Bon Jovi as it blasted out of Tony’s radio.

“ _Whoa! You’re a loaded gun. Whoa! There’s nowhere to run. No one can save me, the damage is done,”_ he sang out at the top of his lungs.

_“Shot through the heart!”_

_“And you’re to blame, you give love a bad name.”_

_“I play my part!”_ Ty hummed along, chopping the ends off the green beans.

_“And you play your game! You give love a bad name.”_ Tony took Ty’s hands, setting the knife down on the counter. He pulled Ty into a twirling dance around the kitchen and living room. Ty held on for dear life, as Tony whirled them round and around. “ _You give love… a bad name.”_

Ty laughed, jumping and jiving and waltzing Tony around the room. He twirled him round before dipping him low and tilting him back up. They hummed and sang and danced to the music, veg lying forgotten on the counter momentarily. The song eventually ended, both of them slightly out of breath from the impromptu jig about the room.

“Wow, we’re both so unfit,” Ty gasped, half in laughter, “you should work out more.”

“Ruude,” Tony pouted.

Ty winked, “I mean work out with me. Upstairs, under covers.”

“Now that’s an exercise plan I’ll always agree to.”

They ran upstairs, Ty smacking Tony’s ass playfully on the way up. Tony swatted his shoulder, laughing. The radio kept playing in the kitchen.

A couple of hours passed in pleasure. Tony lay lethargically on the bed, stretching out. Ty moved to get out of the bed, pulling on his T-Shirt. Now that Tony looked, Ty hadn’t even removed his pants. He still had jeans hanging from his hips, his fly open as he tucked himself back in.

“Where you going?”

“We still have to finish the prep work for tomorrow. And I have a graveyard shift to work tonight. Sorry, it’s so tiring going back and forth from your place to mine to work, back to mine, and then back to yours.”

Tony winced. He hadn’t considered that at all.

“I’m sorry. You must be exhausted.”

“I really am,” Ty sighed, “but I just have to deal with it. Unless… No, never mind.”

“No, tell me! If I can help, I will.”

Ty shrugged, “It’s nothing really. Just maybe when I stay the night I can leave some things here.”

“You want to move in?” Tony asked, frowning.

Ty quickly retracted, “no, no, definitely not-“ affronted, Tony glared at Ty- “I mean, not yet, I mean-“ Honestly, the embarrassed babbling was rather cute – “I just mean could I leave some clothes and a toothbrush round here.” He sat back down on the bed, burying his head in his hands.

“You want a drawer,” Tony realised, “you just want somewhere to keep your stuff.”

Ty perked back up, “yeah, exactly.”

Tony nodded, “yeah, that’s… that’s a great idea, if it helps you. Your place is the other side of town right. So if it’s easier for you to keep a spare uniform here then go for it. Sorry, I should have realised sooner. Kind of inconsiderate of me.” Tony made a face, slightly downcast.

“That’s okay, apology accepted,” Ty laughed, mood bouncing right back, “you can’t think of everything.”

Tony pulled himself out of the warm covers, picking his boxers off the floor and pulling them on. He gathered up his other clothes and aimed them at his laundry hamper. The jeans landed dead centre, but his t-shirt caught on the edge, hanging limply over the side. He walked over to his dresser and pulled open the drawers.

“Are you a top, middle, or bottom drawer kind of guy?”

“Top drawer.”

“How spiffing,” Tony answered back in his worst British accent, “just need to figure out where to put everything.”

Ty glanced in the drawers. A frown marred his face, his body canting over the dresser as he pulled out a few shirts. “Band Tees? Really?”

“What? I like them.” Tony tugged the ACDC t-shirt that Ty was holding, clutching it close to his chest.

“Nothing, it’s just… aren’t you… y’know?”

“No, I don’t know,” Tony argued, clenching his fists by his side, the tee still clasped in his right hand.

“Aren’t you a little old to have forty band tees? I mean, you have no regular shirts.”

Tony blinked at him. What were regular shirts? Because he had dress shirts. And he wasn’t that old. But maybe… okay, maybe he’d had some of those shirts since college, and maybe some of them were stretched and faded, the decal on them cracked. But they were comfy. Tony twisted his mouth as he looked at them, picking out his favourites and moving them into the drawer below – the one that held his jeans and tank tops.

“You’re right, I probably am too old for them. I’ll bag them up tomorrow. Do you need wardrobe space too?”

Ty walked over to the wardrobe, flinging the doors open with a clatter. “Wow, you have so many suits.”

Tony nodded, fingering the sleeve of a dark blue one, “I needed them for work, meetings, galas. Boring things mostly.”

“Oh, I’d love to see you dressed up for a gala.”

Tony chuckled darkly, “yeah, no. You definitely wouldn’t. Takes hours to get ready, I worry about making sure my suit matches my shoes and cufflinks. The media likes to point those things out. It was worse for Pepper, when we used to go together. They’d point out how her heels didn’t match her broach, or how her dress colour was the wrong shade of green for the _in trend_ or something. I really don’t understand fashion.”

“Clearly,” Ty pulled out a bright gold suit with a grin, “trying to compete with the sun with this one?”

“Nah, everything already revolves around me,” Tony shot back.

“Don’t say things like that. Someone might think you mean it.”

Tony rolled his eyes, “too many people already think I think like that.”

“Well, I’m not going to be one of them.”

Tony could feel his cheeks heat up, so he turned away, feigning interest in his suits. “We should probably get back to doing the prep work for tomorrow. Especially if you’re doing the graveyard shift tonight.”

May 12th 2017 – 11:07pm

To do:

  * ~~Plan a meal for Pepper and Rhodey~~ ~~~~
  * ~~Buy Ingredients for the meal~~ ~~~~
  * Clear out some space for Ty’s clothes
  * Set Microwave clock
  * Tame Garden




	7. Chapter 7

#  ****Chapter 7 – Weekend at Tony’s** **

May 13th 2017 – 7:04pm

To do:

  * Cook for Pepper and Rhodey
  * ~~Clear out some space for Ty’s clothes~~ ~~~~
  * Set Microwave clock
  * Tame Garden



Its chime was loud in the anxious silence; the doorbell was shrill and obnoxious. He should get a new one. But not right now. He had guests. He’d never hosted before. Not really. Sure he’d had parties, and sure, he had friends come over. But he’d never entertained like an actual adult. But the doorbell rang, so now he was playing host. He opened the door, greeting a gorgeous Pepper and a handsome Rhodey. Pepper offered a bottle of wine, pushing it into Tony’s hands as she walked into his little apartment. Once realising Tony wasn’t following her, she linked her arm in his.

“C’mon, show us your place.”

Tony cast a helpless glance at Rhodey, who was holding a small succulent and a cactus. Rhodey just smiled while shaking his head, shrugging in a ‘what are you going to do?’ kind of way.

Tony relented, taking Pepper into the kitchen. “The tour can wait, first I want you to meet-“ Ty popped up from behind the counter, pulling fresh fruit out of the lower shelves of the fridge- “Ty. He’s my…” Tony paused for a moment.

Pepper nodded wisely. They clearly hadn’t had that conversation yet.

Ty quickly set aside the fruit, wiping his hand on his jeans before offering it out to Pepper, “His boyfriend. We’re dating,” he explained breezily, shaking Pepper’s hand, “I’m Tiberius Stone, but Tony calls me Ty.”

Pepper frowned for a moment before smiling genially, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, and don’t mind Tony’s nicknames. My actual name is Virginia but no one calls me that anymore – not since Tony called me Pepper – and Rhodey’s real name is James-“

“Stick with Rhodey though,” Rhodey grimaced, standing slightly back in the doorway, “there are too many James, Jims, Jimbos, and Jimmys. I quite like being the only Rhodey.”

Ty nodded at him, “I’m quite fond of Ty.”

Tony looked between them all, grinning widely. It seemed to be going well so far. He quickly got his guests a drink – Pepper, a glass of white wine, and Rhodey, a beer – before settling them down in the living room with Ty.

“I’ll be right back, just have to check on the chicken.”

Rhodey stared at him for a moment before uttering, “you cooked?”

Tony nodded with a wide smile, “yeah, Ty’s been teaching me.”

Rhodey swallowed hard, before casting an anxious look at Pepper. She looked nauseous already. Ty stood up and joined Tony in the kitchen, setting his beer on the counter.

“Haven’t even tasted it and they’re judging you,” he muttered to Tony.

“With good reason,” Tony laughed, “Did I ever tell you about the omelette I made for Pepper?”

Ty shook his head, pulling out a chopping board to cut the fruit he pulled out earlier.

“It was awful. Somehow overcooked and raw. I think I put spinach in it, which, as it turns out, is something Pepper hates.”

“Still, they should be more supportive when you make an effort.”

Tony shrugged, opening the oven. The chicken kievs were golden brown on the top, the carrots roasting next to them. Tony set the broccoli and green beans on.

“Dinner in about 5 minutes,” he called over to his friends. He pulled plates and cutlery from his cabinets and began setting the table. Short one dining chair, he substituted his desk chair in. The set came with four, but he’d only ever built three. One for Pepper, one for Rhodey, and one for himself. He never imagined someone like Ty would come into his life.

Ty was plating up the food for him, as everyone took their seats. The chicken looked crisp and juicy, the veg bright like jewels on their plates. The mash potato was creamy and buttery. Everything looked delicious. Tony had only been this proud over making something when he finished his bots, Jarvis, and the Iron Man suit. Ty set the plates down on the table. Conversation soon started. And it immediately turned to the topic of the night.

“So how long have you two been… seeing each other?” Pepper asked.

And there was something in her tone that caught Tony’s attention. Something… apprehensive. Ty caught it too because he glanced at Tony before answering her.

“We met last week, and have seen each other almost every day since.”

“Oh, only a week.” She cut up her chicken, the garlic butter oozing out. “And yet you’re already made yourself at home.”

“You can get to know someone really well in a week, if you pay attention.”

“Oh I’ve been paying attention.”

Tony glared at her, trying to ignore her sniping tone. Instead, he took Ty’s hand under the table, squeezing it lightly. Ty smiled weakly at him, before releasing Tony’s hand. This was going to be a long night.

“That was delicious,” Rhodey complimented before tipping back the last of his beer, “any chance of another of these?”

“Sure,” Tony agreed, taking the bottle from his hand, “One sec-“

“I’ll get it,” Ty intercepted the bottle, leaning down to kiss Tony on the head, “you stay here and catch up with your friends. I’ll do the dishes. I need to finish up the dessert anyway.”

Ty quickly cleared away the plates, only returning to deliver Rhodey a beer. After that, the sound of running water filled the small room.

“He seems nice,” Rhodey said in hushed tones, trying to keep his words masked by the water, “and teaching you to cook – well, he clearly has patience.”

“Yes, but-“

“And he seems to really like you. I mean, he’s teaching you to cook, I’ve never seen a place you live so clean, and you seem… I don’t know, happier. I’m really happy for you, Tones.”

“Yes, but-“ Pepper tried again through gritted teeth, “-I don’t trust him.”

“Why not?” Rhodey turned to face her directly, frowning, “he’s done nothing wrong.”

“He gives off a bad vibe.”

Rhodey laughed, “so you’re clairvoyant now?”

“Call it a gut feeling.”

Tony sighed and rolled his eyes. Why had he thought introducing them this soon would be a good idea? At least Rhodey was acting normal.

“I wouldn’t worry, it’s just a rebound thing from Steve,” Rhodey dismissed in a whisper.

He wasn’t quite quiet enough. Tony still heard, and judging by the sudden stillness from the kitchen, Ty did too. “That’s… how dare you?” He could feel his face flush.

“Tony, we just meant-“

“Save it,” he stood from the table and walked over to Ty, “I think we’re done here.”

“Tony, please,” Pepper tried to reason.

At least she had the good sense to know she stepped too far. They had clearly been discussing him and St- him and Captain Rogers behind his back. And to simply dismiss what he felt with Ty as ‘just a rebound’ was not just rude, it was downright insulting – both for him and for Ty.

“We’re sorry. How about we just forget this? “ Rhodey offered, “let’s just enjoy the rest of the night, hmm?”

Tony shook his head, “I think I’d rather you left.”

It was only when Ty wrapped an arm around his shoulders did he feel himself shake. “Tony, calm down, I’m sure they just didn’t think about what they were saying.”

Pepper’s eyes shot to Ty’s and she glared at him. He smiled levelly in return.

“That’s just it, they didn’t think. They didn’t think about what they were saying at all. I want them to go.” Tony stormed upstairs. Slamming the bedroom door made certain they knew that he wouldn’t come back down until they left.

Ty shrugged, “I’m sorry, maybe you _should_ go.”

Ty showed them to the door, leaving it ajar as he waved goodbye.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ Rhodey started.

“No hard feelings,” Ty offered, “I know we seem like we’re moving a bit fast but that’s only because… well I really like him. And I think he likes me too.”

“I’m sorry I offended Tony, we only meant-“

Ty shrugged off Pepper’s apology with ease, “That’s okay, honestly. I know how things must seem to you both. I mean, you’re his closest friends, basically like family. Of course you’re going to be protective over him, especially with all he’s been through.”

“Thanks. Do you think you could let us back in so we can speak to Tony?”

Ty shook his head. He crossed his arms, and moved to block the front door. “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now. Give him some time to cool off; then I’ll speak to him. If he wants to message you, he will. I think you owe him that much after tonight.” He turned and left them on the street, shutting the door with finality.

Pepper turned to Rhodey, frowning again.

“I still don’t like him.”

Rhodey glared at her, “well, we’re going to have to pretend, okay?”

“We?”

“You mostly. I don’t have a problem with him, if he’s what Tony wants.”

“Then why’d you say ‘we’?”

“Just because I don’t have a problem with him, doesn’t mean I like him. But he seems good for Tony, so maybe we see how things go for them?”

Pepper nodded hesitantly.

Rhodey nodded back and they got into Pepper’s car.

Ty pushed Tony’s bedroom door open slowly. Tony was sat on his bed, facing away from the door, holding a photo frame. His grip was tight on the frame, hands shaking a little. Ty pushed the door open more, the hinges squeaking just slightly; the noise sounded like a scream in the quiet room. Tony turned, using one hand to wipe his face, the other dropping the frame to the floor so he could kick it under the bed. Ty moved to sit with him, Tony immediately leaning against his support.

“Sorry about them. God, you must think I’m so stupid. I was just really hoping you’d get along.”

“You’re fine and they aren’t so bad, I think they were just-“

“Don’t make excuses for them,” Tony sighed, “I’m so sorry. They completely humiliated me. You aren’t a rebound, I swear.”

“I believe you,” Ty said easily, “though I am curious about the rebound thing. Who’s Steve?”

“Steve was my last… he was the last person I dated. I should also maybe mention that he’s Captain America-“ Ty gasped loudly- “so I’m sure you can understand that it didn’t end well.”

“How did it end?”

“With a shield to my chest. It’s sharper than it looks,” Tony shrugged, “thank you for never asking about the scars by the way. Makes a nice change from most people.”

“I work with the police, I know better than to ask. Most scars like that don’t have good stories attached to them.”

Tony nodded, wrapping an arm around Ty’s waist, “I’m sorry about Rhodey and Pepper though, really.”

“It’s not your fault. I don’t know what Pepper’s deal was, but Rhodey’s cool.”

“Pepper’s always been a bit weird about the people I used to date.”

“Didn’t you date her for a while?”

Tony nodded, “but we broke up, what was it, three years ago? Four?”

Ty tilted his head to the side, lost in thought.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on in there?” Tony teased, poking Ty’s temple.

Ty reached for Tony’s hand, squeezing it, “just, if Pepper is weird about _everyone_ you date then maybe she’s… nah that’s ridiculous, she wouldn’t be.”

“She wouldn’t be what?”

“Jealous.”

Tony stared at him in silence. Before finally saying, “of what?”

“Of you. Maybe she wants to get back together with you?”

“That’s ridiculous, she broke up with me.”

“Maybe she’s jealous that you’re happy without her.”

Tony shook his head, “she’s not that petty.”

“Maybe she just wants you to herself, to date you again.”

Tony looked doubtful but something inside was squirming. Pepper wouldn’t really be jealous. She broke up with him after all, because she couldn’t handle him being Iron Man. They were better as friends but they didn’t stop loving each other. For Tony that love changed to platonic, but for Pepper maybe it hadn’t. Maybe she _was_ jealous.

“If she is jealous, then it might be best for you to keep your distance from her for a while. Let her get over her feelings. Must be hard, being around you all the time.”

Tony sighed. He stared down at his hands. Maybe that was what was best. To give each other some space. “You’re right. I’ll give her some space.”

“But maybe message Rhodey tomorrow, or the day after. He was really sorry. I just don’t think he understands everything you’ve been through.”

Tony nodded morosely.

“Cheer up, we still have dessert.”

At the word, Tony perked up. Ty knew he would; the man had something of a sweet tooth. He was up and out the door before Ty had the chance to stand. Not that he tried too hard. Instead he reached under the bed for the photo frame Tony had kicked there earlier.

Interesting.

Inside was a picture of the Avengers, in their garishly coloured uniforms. There was Thor, his red cape billowing out in the wind. The Black Widow, her cat suit perversely tight, nothing but team eye candy. Hawkeye, tucked behind the others, unimportant. And a small mouse-like man, glasses perched on his nose and ragged clothes hanging off his shoulders, probably a handler of some sort. None of the newer Avengers, and no War Machine either. But Tony stood front and centre, hand on Captain America’s shoulder. The two were looking at each other and not the camera, like there was nothing else in the world but the other person. Ty smirked down at the picture, before dropping it to the floor.

“Ty, aren’t you coming? You have to help me with the cake, I’m useless without you.”

“Coming, just need to use the bathroom.”

He stomped on the photo, breaking the frame and glass. He then kicked the picture under the bed.

May 14th 2017 – 1:32am

To do:

  * ~~Cook for Pepper and Rhodey~~ ~~~~
  * Get a different doorbell
  * Text Rhodey
  * Give Pepper some space
  * Set Microwave clock
  * Tame Garden




	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings for This Chapter:  
> \- Hallucinations

#  ****Chapter**** ** **8 – Wax and Wings****

May 18th 2017 – 4:06am

To do:

  * ~~Get a different doorbell~~ ~~~~
  * Text Rhodey
  * Give Pepper some space
  * Set Microwave clock
  * Tame Garden



_The stars were within reach. He knew it. So he crafted out of candlewax and the feathers of the gulls that flew overhead a set of wings. He kept making them, enough for everyone. Feathers of the Scarlet Tanager for Natasha, and Hawk feathers for Clint. The plumage of a swan adorned Thor’s shoulders, and the jewel-toned feathers of the violet Sabrewing lay smoothly on Bruce’s back. But Steve’s wings, oh Steve’s were his masterpiece; they were his ninth symphony. The royal blue plumage of a peacock was spread over his shoulders. Tony had the_ _feathers of seagulls and pigeons_ _on his back and with a twitch of his shoulders he flew. The others joined him in the air, Clint’s whoops carried on the ocean breeze._

_“Let’s go higher,” Tony encouraged, chasing the group into the sky._

_The sun burned brightly, beads of sweat working their way from his forehead down his neck. His team flew ahead of him, laughing at the sun._

_Something dripped on Tony’s face. He swept a hand over, wiping away the sweat. Only the sweat had hardened on his fingertips. Not sweat, wax. Crimson wax coated his fingertips. More dripped down, catching his white feathers. They grew stiff and he struggled to keep himself in the air._

_Someone screamed. Bruce. Violet feathers blew away and soon Bruce was falling from the sky. Tony chased after him. His breath froze in his lungs as his wings beat. He stretched out his hand. He was close enough. He had to be. But waves loomed over them, swallowing Bruce into their depths. A shout from above. Clint was diving, frantically trying to grab a hold of Natasha, her wings melted as well. Clint’s were falling apart with the speed of his dive. Tony soared to meet them. But it was too late. The waves surged up as soon as Clint grabbed Natasha’s hand. They clasped each other as they sunk. He felt like he was sinking with them. White feathers drifted down, Tony clasping at one. He soared above. He reached out to Thor. He touched the wings and they fell apart beneath his touch. Thor plummeted, no hammer to call and save him. Tony turned to Steve, desperate to save him. But the wings split in half. And for one hopeful moment, Steve just hung there without falling. Then, carried in the screeches of seagulls, he spoke._

_“You could have saved us.”_

_He fell. His feathers fanned out, fluttering in the wind. Tony begged him to fly, to just try. But no, Steve fell. He joined his team. Tony chased after him. He dived down, the sea spray pelting him like bullets. He could feel the darkness beneath, the cold of the water. Steve was swallowed_ _by it_ _. But the water wouldn’t take Tony. So he flew until he reached the stars, and let space fill him until the darkness swallowed him._

_“Why didn’t you do more?”_

The room was dark but the stars couldn’t reach him here. He sat up in bed and let familiar shadows soothe him. He could see the outline of the door, left ajar and lit by street lights downstairs. He could see the outline of his curtains and dresser and wardrobe. See the light bouncing off the porcelain in his adjoining bathroom. His home. Deep breath. He was home.

Drenched in sweat, he threw aside his bed covers. He staggered to the bathroom. The tap ran as he splashed cold water on his face. He was fine.

The wall crumbled. It was stuck in there, a ring dulling any other sound that dared to enter Tony’s ears. A shield, no, _the_ shield was wedged into the wall. He could see its sharp edge, feel it too. It had just missed him by a hair. Blood. It filled his lungs, his throat. He vomited into the toilet, and when he was done the shield had gone. Remnants of a nightmare. Nothing more. Tony glanced into the mirror. He hated mirrors. People once believed they captured a person’s soul. There seemed some truth in that. He could act and pretend he wasn’t threadbare, fraying at the edges. But the act only worked on other people. He couldn’t fool the man that stared back from his glass prison. He saw the fear in his own eyes, the exhaustion surrounding them. He could see his own stress in the lines on his brow and the tightness of his smile. He could see his time ticking down in the grey harassing his temples and the wrinkles carved around his mouth. He could see a million things to make up for and only minutes to do so. He glanced down at his hands. Scarred with white lines and darkened indentations in his skin. They used to be war wounds, labours of love, and marks of his achievements in engineering. Now they were a joke that was on him. He looked in the mirror again. All he could see was a tired man who needed to brush his teeth and get on with his day.

He made breakfast, the taste of mint still strong in his mouth. He wasn’t hungry but… well he had to eat. So he ate a single slice of toast and walked into his workshop. Powering up his laptop took seconds, and his holoprojector even less time. Soon he was flicking through completed blueprints, seeing if any needed adjustments. If he was bringing the Avengers back, they needed top of the line gear. He wouldn’t tell them it was from him though, just in case they didn’t want him involved. He was retired after all.

Why he’d been picked as the Avengers liaison, he’d never know. Well, he kind of knew why. He supposed it made a certain level of sense. He knew them, understood their powers. That and General Ross didn’t really like him or care that two super soldiers didn’t like him much either. This was the punishment that General Ross chose for him when he disobeyed the rules and went to Siberia.

So he worked on his plans, until there was nothing left to do. He checked his emails for any new notes on the Accords. Finding his inbox disappointingly empty, he printed out a copy of the Accords and began highlighting and making notes on anything that might need change: from language and phrasing to the clauses themselves, he worked slowly though the Accords.

The sun began to rise when Tony heard his front door open and shut. He ran to the garage door, one of Natasha’s old tasers in hand. He opened the door and flung himself out, ready to fire.

“Woah, easy it’s just me,” Ty put his hands up, placating.

Tony sighed in relief, until a thought struck him. “How did you get in?”

“Oh,” Ty laughed, “you lent me your spare key for when I have graveyard shifts.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn’t. I would remember.”

“Tony, c’mon, really?” Ty grunted, frustrated, “do you really think I’d take your key without your permission? Does that sound like me? I’m pretty sure you just forgot. You haven’t been sleeping well recently, so maybe you’re just tired and can’t remember.”

“I’m sure I would remember-“ but he wasn’t sure. He had seen a shield slam into his bathroom this morning. His nightmares had been getting worse the closer it got to the pardoning. He wasn’t sure. So maybe he did lend his key. Maybe he hadn’t been paying attention to what Ty had been saying. He had done that to Pepper, and St- Captain Rogers sometimes too.

“You gave me your key. I would never just take something from you without your permission.”

Tony nodded, “you’re right, sorry.”

“That’s okay, I forgive you. Do you want your key back?” Ty asked through a yawn.

“No, no. Keep it for the graveyard shifts.” Tony stepped out of his way, gesturing to the bedroom, “speaking of, I’m sure you’re tired. Why don’t you go upstairs and sleep?”

Ty nodded with a wan smile, “are you going to work out while I’m asleep?”

“I hadn’t… planned on it.”

“Oh really?” He glanced at Tony’s midriff. “I really think you should. You’ve eaten a lot of desserts lately.”

“Only because you made a six-tier cake-“

“That was for us to share with your friends, but you ate the whole damn thing once they left.”

Tony swallowed the lump that suddenly came to his throat. He was a bit of a stress eater and fighting with Pepper and Rhodey ramped his stress levels to catastrophic. So he may have eaten… the entire six-tier cake, with whipped double cream and fresh fruit between the layers and on top, dusted in powdered sugar. And he still hadn’t messaged or called Rhodey.

“It wasn’t that much.”

“Still,” Ty said, his voice too high and his eyes still fixed on Tony’s midriff, “you do have a sweet tooth. It might be worth trying to lose some of that weight.”

And with that, Ty walked upstairs. He pulled off his tie and let it fall to the floor, using a foot to push the bedroom door closed. Tony pressed his hand to his stomach. It certainly wasn’t as… defined as it had been even a year ago. Maybe it was worth trying to get back in shape; worth making sure the desserts don’t catch up with him. Ty was right, he did have a sweet tooth. Normally fighting Gods and robots kept him fit, but there were no spare Nazis to round up or sceptres to find. So he might as well get back in shape. He had nothing better to do, so he walked back into his workshop and started on the treadmill.

Tony only stopped when the caffeine cravings took over. The coffee pot called him like a siren’s song. So he stumbled off the treadmill, feeling slightly dazed.

“Jay, can you switch on the coffee pot? But quietly, I think Ty is still asleep upstairs. Does he know about you by the way?”

“I would assume not, sir, as I have not spoken or been spoken to in his presence.”

“Aww, are you getting lonely?”

“No, sir. Just bored.”

“Okay, let’s give you a workout. So can you go into blueprint file CPTNMURICASHLD and run the calculations. Test the probability of synthesis, and run the tests on the planned magnetic components.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You can repay me with coffee.”

“Already brewed. And sir…”

It was odd for his AI to pause before speaking, “yes, Jarvis?”

“Would you like me to keep hidden from Mr Stone?”

Tony thought for a moment, “for now, yeah. I don’t want to freak him out. I’ll tell him once he’s seen the armour or all the bots. Ease him into my genius,” Tony quirked a grin at the ceiling, habit not lost from living with the computer-illiterate Captain. And let’s leave that thought alone for the moment.

He grabbed a cup of coffee, his biggest cup, in fact. He drank half and went back to his workshop. Setting the mug on his desk, he pulled out his phone.

A missed text.

_Hey Tony. Pepper and I are sorry for the other night. We didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or embarrass you. I honestly think Ty is a great guy and he seems to be really great for you. I didn’t mean to imply anything and I hope the two of you are okay. All the best, Rhodey_

Tony’s finger hovered over the reply button. He had nothing he really wanted to say to Rhodey. But he had apologised. So he should at least acknowledge that. His traitorous finger moved, hitting the call button instead. It rang twice before Rhodey picked up.

“Tony,” his voice was worked-up, a little frantic behind it, “Tony, I’m so so sorry-“

“That’s okay, Rhodes. I know.”

“It’s not okay, we were really rude and I hope we didn’t embarrass you- what am I saying? Of course we did- but I hope we didn’t make things awkward between the two of you.”

“No,” Tony replied, his voice harder than he meant it to be, “No, you didn’t, but only because Ty was really understanding about it. But you need to talk to Pepper about reigning in her- well whatever that was that night-“ because Tony didn’t think it was jealousy, but it certainly wasn’t what he’d expected - “because her treatment of Ty was totally uncalled for.”

“It was,” Rhodey agreed simply, “and she’s sorry too-“

“But she didn’t message me.”

“She’s nervous.”

“Well she wasn’t nervous when she was round here. Tell her to message me when she changes her attitude and apologises to Ty and means it.”

He could hear a sigh on the other end of the phone, “I’ll tell her but I’m not your messenger. I’ll make sure she messages you.”

“Thanks, Rhodey.”

“Love you Tony, you’re like a brother to me. I just want to protect you.”

“Love you too, Platypus. And you don’t have to with Ty. He’s honestly a great guy, and I can’t think of a time when I was this happy. And it’s okay, I don’t expect you to protect me all the time, it’s not your responsibility. So don’t go overbearing next time.”

“Next time?”

“Yeah, I’m not dropping either of you from my life, just yet. You’ve put up with me for this long.”

“Thanks Tony. And we miss you.”

“Miss you too.”

Ty slept in until 6pm. Tony prepared them dinner and laid it out on the table ready. But he couldn’t eat. After everything that happened today, his stomach was in knots. So he made himself a cup of coffee and let Ty talk to him about everything that happened on his shift. Graveyard shifts were the weirdest, so Ty always had stories to tell. They ate and Tony cleaned up the plates, while Ty watched Netflix in the living room. Then they went to bed. And Tony couldn’t sleep. Fears of feathers and flames, worries of wax and wings haunted him that night.

May 18th 2017 – 11:59pm

To do:

  * ~~Text Rhodey~~ ~~~~
  * Lose weight ~~~~
  * Give Pepper some space
  * Set Microwave clock
  * Tame Garden



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might change the title of this story to "Could we pretend that we're in love?"
> 
> What do people think?
> 
> I also have a 9 and a half hour long playlist of songs that inspire this fic - would anyone like me to link it? It's on spotify.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings for this chapter:
> 
> \- Nightmares/Hallucinations

#  ****Chapter**** ** **9 – Nightmare Nights and Dreamy Days****

May 21st 2017 – 3:17am

To do:

  * Lose weight ~~~~
  * Give Pepper some space
  * Set Microwave clock
  * Tame Garden



He was up again. Nightmares of formless ghosts and red mists and sandstorms followed him when he woke. For the sixth night in a row now, he hasn’t gotten a full night’s rest.

He tried to delay sleep, keep himself busy with work. If not that then he would tire himself out - swinging at a punching bag until his knuckles bled or running until he felt faint - so that the sleep would be dreamless and deep. If that didn’t work caffeine was his salvation, a last desperate ditch attempt. Nothing helped, not really. He has to sleep, even if he doesn’t want to. But it always ended up like this. Awake and staring at the ceiling; the sheets felt damp beneath him, sweat soaking through the shirt and boxers he slept in. His breath was coming too fast and too hard and so he lay as still as possible until the people turned to back into shadows and the shadows were chased away by light. And by then, there’s no point trying again until the next night because once dawn shines down he’s pinned under its light.

So this morning, he lay there, trying to steady himself and fortify himself. He was a ship, adrift at sea, grappling to find a harbour. He lay there, counting the inches that the sun managed to crawl across his ceiling. And when it almost touched him, he moved away from it. Got out of bed. The light can’t touch him in his workshop so he hid there, let the light permeate through his apartment but kept it shut away from himself. The light was defeat, because it meant he hadn’t slept again.

He answered emails. There were a few from Pepper, but they were curt, work-related. There was a chasm between them now, one they were struggling to bridge. They spoke briefly on the phone. Pepper didn’t mention Ty or that night, so Tony didn’t either. He’s a coward, really. His hands hovered over the keyboard, fingers poised to type a reply. No words came. He wanted to apologise. He wanted to tell her all about Ty and how sweet he is. He wanted to tell her that Ty loves him and that he loves Ty. But he can’t now. Because Pepper wasn’t someone he should go to about those things, those moments any more.

She’s sent him an email. The pardon. It’s going ahead; they have a provisional date set for mid-June, but she warns him it may be pushed back. But one thing is certain; The Avengers will be coming back. And he knows he should be ecstatic. But he’s not. There’s something hollow in the pit of his stomach. He could feel his stomach roil at the thought of seeing them again. He wanted them back, but… He slumped over his desk. He was such a coward. He couldn’t face them. That emptiness gnawed at him, a disease-ridden rodent chewing away at his insides. The more he thought about it, the more he dreaded it.

Coffee called to him, its song sorrowful and bitter. It was a lullaby to soothe his tiredness, but a lullaby that cursed his bones. Or he was being melodramatic because he still sat there on the counter, waiting for it to brew his apparent curse. If you know something is a curse, why would you have it anyway? He leaned his head against the kitchen counter and his eyes felt dry. He closed them, ignoring the ache that was building in his head.

_The world seemed surreal. The colours around him bloomed and burst out of sight. The world was a blurred haze. He knew he was dreaming. But that didn’t stop things feeling dream-like. He was lying in bed. His old bed, in his old room, in his old home. The Avengers compound. His sheets were soft and silken beneath him, cosy in ways Boston never was. His hands stretched out across the bed, meeting warm planes of skin. He knew exactly who it was. And exactly what was coming. So he rolled onto his back, into the middle of the bed. Another body joined them, and in that weird way that happened in dreams, both bodies were suddenly completely clothed. The colour faded into grey. Only the blue of his arc reactor bled into its surroundings. If this were real, he’d close his eyes. He wished he had closed his eyes back then, if only so he didn’t have to know how realistic this dream would be. Steve rose above his body, shield held high above his head. Sergeant Barnes watched with vague indifference, sprawled on the bed next to him. Tony watched as Steve’s face contorted with anger. There was a finality in his movements as he brought the shield down on Tony’s chest. This was meant to end it._

Tony jolted, banging his head against the kitchen cabinet. The coffee pot beeped repeatedly. Coffee was done. He poured a mug, and just held it. He let the warmth soak into his numb fingers.

_This was meant to end it._

Except it didn’t. It was repeated, over and over again in Tony’s mind. It was meant to end, but it never would.

The coffee was starting to burn him, so he set the cup down. He checked his phone, 5:50am lighting up on his lock screen. This was going to be a long day. He should probably clean up. Ty was coming over later, and he hated it when Tony hadn’t tidied.

He had cleaned. The sun was weakly pushing past the horizon so he began to start weeding the garden. It wasn’t much; he didn’t have any pruning shears or anything to cut back the branches with. He could just make something but he was missing a few parts and, honestly, it would just be easier to buy some from Home Depot. He would do that tomorrow. So instead he dug his hands into the cold, damp earth and pulled up every weed he could find. Then he wiped down the patio furniture left behind by whoever owned this house before him. He should get rid of it; it wasn’t like he used his garden, but maybe he and Ty would host a barbeque over summer. He’d keep it and see, for now.

He wandered back inside, the room smelling like cleaning spray and synthetic clean linen – courtesy of the air freshener. He set the microwave clock because why not? The neon screen was bugging him, constantly displaying 00:00. So he set it to the correct time of 6:15am and wished that time would move faster.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror in his hallway. It was framed in pine, light wood. The mirror itself had a thin layer of dust on it. Tony didn’t really care about his appearance as much as he used to. One of the benefits of retiring. But he looked now. He pulled at his cheeks, pushing the skin back in a sort of temporary facelift. He was looking a bit chubby around the face. At least the beard helped hide it.

He moved upstairs to look in the floor length mirror that had been tucked into his wardrobe. Maybe it was just because Ty had pointed it out, but now all he could see was fat. He sucked in his stomach, pushing down on it with his hands.

“Jarvis, how much do I weigh?”

“One hundred and eighty five pounds, sir.”

“What would that make my BMI?”

“27.3 Sir, which technically means that with your height, you’d be deemed overweight by a doctor, however, with your muscle mass-“

“Wait, wait, wait. I’m overweight. Shit.”

“Only technically sir, as I was saying, with your muscle mass, you’re perfectly-“

“How much would I have to lose to be a healthy weight again?”

“A minimum of 17 pounds, however I must advise, Sir, that you’d be losing muscle-“

Tony stopped listening. Okay, Ty was right. He had tried to tell him, but Tony had just ignored it. Thought he’d lose the weight by himself. He had to lose over a stone. _Minimum._

“Jay, can you order a set of scales? For weighing people; not the kitchen or science kinds. The most accurate ones you can find.”

“I have ordered them, Sir. However, I must say-“

“When will they arrive?”

“In two to four working days.”

“Great, I have time to start losing weight.”

He spent the next hour and a half doing cardio exercises, until Ty came home from another night shift. Tony poked his head round the door, “hi honey.”

“Heya,” Ty gave him a beatific smile, “so glad to be home. It’s been a hell of a night.”

“What happened?” Tony walked into the kitchen and began making Ty’s breakfast. It became something of a habit; Ty was usually too tired to cook after a night shift, but was always hungry, so Tony cooked him breakfast.

“We managed to bust that drug ring I was telling you about last week, only now the Captain told us that some of the key evidence is circumstantial. We had to hand over to forensics and the drug squad to find something more concrete.”

“Sounds… like a lot of fun.”

Ty chuckled, “yeah, nothing like calling in a team at 4am. But how about you? You look horrible by the way.”

Tony froze for a second, “Yeah, I know. I didn’t sleep much last night. Or at all, really. I’ve been up since four.”

“You’re covered in mud, too. It’s kind of gross.”

Oh right, he had mud on his hands and jeans; he really shouldn’t be handling or cooking food. “Sorry, I’ll just wash my hands.”

“Damage is done,” Ty took the frying pan and scraped the contents into the bin, before dumping it in the sink.

Tony quickly scrubbed his hands, making sure he got every bit of dirt – even underneath the nails. His hands were red by the time he was done. “Sorry,” he repeated, setting more eggs and bacon on the stove.

“I forgive you, but in future maybe don’t be quite so… grimy.” He crinkled his nose in disgust.

Tony glanced over himself. Ty was right, he was kind of gross. He had dirt all over him, and he could feel the sweat on his forehead dry from his impromptu workout. Along with the tiredness that seemed to drag at his face, and the weight he could now feel on him, he probably didn’t paint a very desirable picture.

“Sorry, I was working in the garden, and I started working out.”

Ty perked up, “oh that’s good, it’s good you’re getting healthy.”

Tony nodded, plating up Ty’s bacon and eggs. “I’m going to have a quick shower, then I’ll join you for coffee.”

He showered quickly, almost perfunctory. The dirt and sweat washed away, and he used his citronella shower gel to make sure no smell of fresh earth or bacon grease stuck to his skin. He towelled himself down, changing into a fresh pair of boxers, before heading back downstairs, towel around his shoulders.

Ty eyed him up and down appreciatively. But Tony could feel the moment Ty’s gaze settled on his chest.

“So Captain America did that to you?”

“Yuh-huh,” Tony said, staring at the ground and hoping that would be the last of it.

“What an asshole.”

A laugh surprised Tony as it bubbled out his chest, “yeah, but he’s not so bad.”

Ty smirked, a quick quirk of his lips, before eating another mouthful of eggs. “He’s not here, you know? You can call him an asshole.”

Tony shrugged, “I made my peace with it a few months ago. We were both assholes.”

“I doubt that. I’m pretty sure there was only one person there that was an asshole.”

“Well… you don’t know the whole story.”

“You’ll have to tell it to me sometime.”

Tony fell quiet. He hadn’t told anyone. Not Rhodey when he had to come get Tony in his busted suit. Not Pepper as she stitched up the cut on his brow. And not General Ross when he demanded Tony to explain himself. It wasn’t something he wanted to share. He didn’t want to be the bad guy again. That unbidden voice came back; _Coward._

“There were three people there total.”

Ty frowned, “you and Captain America-“

“And Sergeant Barnes, the same guy in Cap’s Howling Commandos.”

“Christ,” Ty set down his coffee cup, reaching his hand across to Tony’s, “that… that’s horrible. I can’t believe they’d do that to you.”

Tony nodded, before shrugging again, “it is what it is. I’ll tell you the full story someday soon, I just can’t today. I haven’t slept, and I keep having nightmares about them- it.”

“Well, that’s stupid,” Ty said bluntly.

Tony stood, walking into the kitchen. It was stupid. He was running again, and any moment Ty would see that. He steeled himself for that moment. Pouring himself a coffee, black, no sugar because that was calories he didn’t need, Tony sat himself back down.

“No seriously, that is so stupid of you. Why would you waste time thinking about them? About any of the Avengers?”

“Thinking about them? I definitely try to avoid that. But I can’t exactly control my nightmares. I guess I miss them, but it always comes back to us fighting. It helps having you there but when you have night shifts there isn’t much I can do.”

“Well sleep with me now.”

“Buy me dinner first,” Tony teased with a grin.

“Only if you make me breakfast in the morning,” Ty returned, but he finished his breakfast and offered his hand to Tony. “Let’s sleep and see if it helps get rid of those silly nightmares of yours.”

Tony took the offered hand, and let Ty lead him to bed.

Hours later, when Tony woke up in Ty’s arms, he felt warm and safe. For the first time in months, he slept for more than a few hours without waking. Even with Ty here before, he hadn’t managed that. He escaped from the nightmares, sure, but he still woke up with a sense of desperately needing to do something, to fix or build something to save those he loved. And Ty was one of them. But this time, when he woke up, it was with a sense of calm, as the late afternoon light seemed to gild the room. Ty shifted beneath him.

“Wakey wakey. Sleep well?”

Tony nodded, sleepily burying his head back into Ty’s chest.

“Thought so, you’ve got the bedhead to prove it,” Ty laughed.

Tony lazily reached up and tried to smooth his hair down but he knew it would be hopeless. And it was, if Ty’s laugh was anything to go by. Ty kissed the top of his head. And then his temple. And finally, he lifted Tony’s chin and kissed him softly on the lips.

“I’m glad you managed to sleep well. I was thinking, since you sleep better when I’m here, and I’m basically round here all the time anyway, well, I was thinking…”

Tony looked up at him, drawn in by his uncharacteristically nervous tone. Tony smiled as encouragingly as he could, hand stroking up and down Ty’s chest.

“I was thinking, how about I move in?”

A grin burst onto Tony’s face as he pulled Ty in. The kiss was more smile than anything else, but Ty kissed him back just as much.

“I’d like an answer. I mean, unless you have something to hide?”

“Nothing to hide, I want you to move in with me!” Tony kissed him again. He linked their hands and slid them up the bed covers.

“No secrets,” Ty offered his pinky.

Linking it, Tony shook their hands, “Not with you.”

May 21st 2017 – 4:10pm

To do:

  * Lose weight – at least 28lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs) ~~~~
  * Give Pepper some space
  * ~~Set Microwave clock~~ ~~~~
  * Tame Garden
  * Tidy up the house
  * Give Ty some space for his things




	10. Chapter 10

#  ****Chapter 10 –**** ** **Itsy Bitsy Spider****

May 22nd 2017 – 10:31am

To do:

  * Lose weight – at least 28lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs) ~~~~
  * Give Pepper some space
  * Tame Garden
  * ~~Tidy up the house~~ ~~~~
  * ~~Give Ty some space for his things~~ ~~~~



Ty walked in, crinkling his nose at the smell of bleach that permeated the entire apartment. Tony took the box from his arms, setting it on the coffee table. He then kissed Ty gently, taking his hands and leading him into the apartment.

“Welcome to our new home.”

Ty kissed him harder, open mouth and tongues. Tony felt like his stomach was full of butterflies and his knees were suddenly unable to support him. It was passionate and heady, and somehow sweet all at once.

“Hi, Sweetheart. You could have tidied before I got here.”

“Oh, I … did.”

“Oh. Well, never mind, you’ll learn to do it better. I mean didn’t you have staff for all that not too long ago.”

Tony laughed, “yep, fed with a silver spoon and everything. Nah, my dad didn’t come from money so all of that felt kind of weird for us. We had a couple of house staff but they were largely at my dad’s beck and call so my mom and I took care of most of the chores.”

Ty smiled, “that’s so sweet. I’m just imagining you as Cinderella scrubbing at the floor on your hands and knees.”

“Something like that,” Tony laughed again, “You got any more boxes or things to bring in?”

“Nah, that’s the last of it.”

The living room was full of boxes; they were stacked on the coffee table, balanced on the sofa, covering the dining table and the kitchen counters. There wasn’t a place left uncovered. Ty grabbed the first box labelled ‘bathroom’ and carried it upstairs.

“Sweetheart, could you please grab the ‘bedroom’ boxes?”

Tony picked up one of the bedroom boxes, staggering a little under its weight. The contents inside rattled. Tony steadied himself before walking upstairs. He set the box on the bed and opened it. “Ty, where do you want this stuff to go?”

The box was full of knick-knacks and odds-n-ends. A photo frame lay on top of the pile. Ty was in his police uniform, standing next to an older woman in a wheelchair.

“My mother.”

Tony started, jumping as Ty appeared at his shoulder. Then the words trickled in, “your mom? What’s she like?”

Ty shrugged, “an idiot. She prattles on about God and Jesus as if they change anything. They didn’t save her from being paralysed from the waist down,” he spat out bitterly, “she said it was divine retribution for her sins. As if God actually cares.”

“When did it happen?”

“When I was thirteen. The car accident.”

“Oh,” Tony rested a hand on Ty’s arm, “I’m sorry. She must have had to rely on you a lot.”

Ty nodded, “for everything. She was – still is – useless. I get calls from her every other week; she always tells me she’s praying for me, like it means anything.”

Tony didn’t know what to say. On the one hand, he wasn’t religious. He understood how Ty could view religion and prayer as something unnecessary. But on the other hand, well… His mom was religious, and Steve had been as well, to an extent, so he knew what it meant to people to put others in their prayers. They were appealing to the highest power they knew, and hoping that power could help him. It seemed disrespectful to dismiss that. This was Ty’s family though, and it really wasn’t Tony’s place to comment.

“She complains constantly too. Can’t do anything right but seems to think everything everyone else does is stupid.”

Tony nodded along, still looking at the picture. Ty looked smart in his uniform, a big grin plastered on his face, and his hand on his mother’s shoulder. She looked immensely proud. But she also looked tired, frail. She had dark circles under her eyes and her smile, though proud, was strained. Her long dark hair was starting to grey. Tony set the picture aside. There was too much still to do to get Ty settled in.

The morning flew by. They quickly unpacked the boxes, sorting out things to keep and throw away to make room. Ty brought all his expensive kitchen equipment, so Tony packed his up ready to take to a thrift shop. They sorted out Tony’s wardrobe together, Ty pulling out hoodies and band-shirts and the odd suit to donate to thrift shops.

“Well, it’s not like you wear them any more,” Ty commented when Tony wanted to keep some of his suits. “You’re not an Avenger and you don’t run a business any more so it’s not like you need the suit to pretend you’re important.”

“I might not run the business, but I still have business to conduct.”

“Like what?”

“I- well, I- I have legal matters to take care of, you know I’m the Avengers liaison, and I’m handling the accords.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know why you’re bothering. It’s not like it’s going to bring them back or make them like you. It’s silly that you’re trying so hard for them.”

“Well, we need them; someone has to be there to protect the world.”

“Someone like the police, you mean,” Ty laughed loudly.

“The police are great, I do live with one after all,” Tony looped his arms around Ty’s neck, holding him close and swaying them both back and forth, “but you weren’t there in New York. It was horrible.” Tony dropped his arms, wrapping them around himself. “Those… things, they just wouldn’t stop coming. The police are amazing; they are the best at what they do. But this is something different. Sending the police to manage these kinds of threats would be like sending a security guard to a tsunami.”

“Do you have nightmares about New York too?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes Afghanistan-”

“Afghanistan?”

“I was kidnapped and tortured back in ’08 by a terrorist cell. You might as well know I come with a lot of baggage.”

Ty let out a breath, “yeah, that’s… that’s a lot. But you’re not an Avenger any more. You’ll need to let them go eventually, right?”

Tony nodded, moving to stuff a few of his suits and hoodies into plastic bags. Ty was right. He wasn’t an Avenger any more. Hell, he was never an Avenger to begin with. He was their consultant. He wasn’t really Iron Man either. He’d retired the suit. This was only still a part of his life because General Ross made him the liaison. He didn’t volunteer for the position. He should let them go, stop being a part of this because he sure wasn’t helping.

But…

If he was really honest with himself… He wanted things to be different. It was stupid, like Ty said. Hoping they’d all forgive and forget. But he did miss them all, as much as he hated them too. Well, he didn’t even really hate them. He hated what he lost when they left. Sure Sergeant Barnes took one family from him, but Steve… Steve left with the other, even as he told Tony that he knew the Avengers were family.

But he was finding new family. Ty was sweet and kind and they were building their own life here in Boston, together. So Tony stopped complaining about losing a bit of storage space, and bagged up his hoodies. Tony moved the bags into the attic until he could take them to the thrift shop. Keep things out of the way and tidy. Ty seemed to prefer things tidy, and everyone who knew Tony would never describe him as organised. He tended to leave things in stacks, heaps, and piles everywhere. Not an easy thing to live with. He should tidy up the house. The bedroom was mostly done, and since the living room and kitchen was mostly tidy, Tony figured he’d tidy up his office.

“Hey babe,” Ty poked his head around the door, “We need more bleach, and some floor cleaner so you can clean the floor tomorrow. Do we need anything else?”

“Not that I can think of,” Tony pushed some stacks of paper aside, looking for his pen, “Actually, do you think you can pick up something for dinner?”

Ty pulled a face, “I don’t get paid until next week. Moving was expensive, you know!”

“Oh, sorry,” Tony apologised quickly, “I didn’t think of that. Yeah, it was pretty pricey when I moved here now I think of it. Take my card and get whatever.” Tony offered his card to Ty who took it hesitantly.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, grab the cleaner and the food and stick it on the card. I’m just finishing up here, and then when you get back we can stick on a movie.”

“Sounds great, I’ll be back soon.” He grabbed Tony’s card and kissed him on the lips, sweet but with heat behind it. It contained promises of things to come. Ty’s hands slid up into Tony’s hair, gripping and pulling his head down, lips moving down Tony’s neck. It felt amazing, all of Tony’s senses tingling, every nerve on edge. But also really ticklish.

“Ty,” Tony tried to stifle his giggles, “the store shuts in like half an hour.”

Ty huffed and frowned. “Fine, I’ll go grab the cleaning stuff.”

Tony laughed, “We can pick this back up when you get home.”

Ty left, and Tony heard the door bang shut. Tony winced at the sound but maybe Ty didn’t slam it; the back doors were open and so the doors seemed to constantly slam all day with the draught. Tony turned back to his laptop, trying to digitise some of the paperwork he had piled on his desk. He had Jarvis scan in the copies, while he organised them on them onto his hard drive. His phone lit up, a tune trilling through the garage.

♪ _Itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout / down came the rain / and washed the spider out_ ♪

The caller id picture always made him smirk a bit. Those Hello Kitty pyjama pants were maybe a bit much. He picked up the phone, smirk still on his face.

“Hey Pete, what’s up?”

“Oh, Mr Stark, hi, urm, I just wanted to talk to you about this internship you arranged.”

“Oh, ok, sure.”

“Well, I mean, are you sure I- I mean, do you really want me to- do you think I’m ready?”

Tony laughed, a short and sharp bark of a laugh, “you’re more ready than I am, Pete. Once Pepper has a firm date, she’ll let you know. Other than that, I’d appreciate if you just continue at Stark Industries for the moment.”

“Oh okay,” Peter was silent for a moment, “and I mean, the pay…”

“You want more money? Honestly, I thought Pepper was low-balling you, but I can talk to her-“

“No, no- I just was going to say, isn’t it a bit _much_?”

Tony shrugged, pinning the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he held up another document for Jarvis to scan “Nah, Pete. You’re going to be my lackey during this internship, and I’m very demanding: you’ll realise Pepper isn’t paying you enough. I’ll only keep you until September, after that you’ll need to focus on your studies. And I mean you’re applying for college soon right, you’ll need the money and the experience. I’ll give you a glowing recommendation.”

Now it was Peter’s turn to laugh, “I think that’s bribery, Mr Stark.”

“The only difference between bribery and an incentive is what’s written in your contract, Pete. You’re still happy to do this right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I want to meet them all… again, I mean. Hopefully less dudes with metal arms throwing punches at me.”

Tony sighed. “I reckon they’ll be throwing all the punches at me, so you just need to watch; keep your head down and keep quiet.”

That was something that was gnawing at him. This little biting anxiety. What if they recognised Peter? By his voice, the way he talked, the way he moved. What if he gave himself away and Captain America or Sergeant Barnes decided to… Tony didn’t even know what Steve might decide to do. He didn’t know these people anymore. He didn’t know if Natasha would take him out shopping or just take him out. Maybe Peter would just teach them all about memes and tell them what he was doing in class. There were too many outcomes that Tony couldn’t prepare for.

“How quiet? Like can I ask questions?”

“Yeah,” Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, screwing up his eyes at the sudden tension headache that began building behind his eyes, “no. You ask me any questions after, at least in the beginning, just- please don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Or anything you would do either, yeah, you’ve given me this talk before.”

“And I will give you this talk until you actually pay attention, young man.”

Tony could picture the roll of the eyes the teenage spider just gave him, “yes _daaad_ , and I’ll do my homework too and won’t be home late.”

Tony paused. Did Peter just call him- … No, he didn’t, did he?

“Did you just call me-“

“No,” Peter answered far too quickly, “I said man. I said ‘yes man’, not dad. I didn’t call you dad.”

Tony smirked, biting his lip to stop himself laughing aloud. “Okay, okay,” Tony held up his hands in surrender, even if Peter couldn’t see, “but give me a call if you need anything.”

There was a moment of quiet. The hesitation caught Tony off guard.

“Peter, you know you can call me about anything, right?”

Peter sighed, “I know I can but…”

“But?” Tony prompted.

“I miss… having you around. Hanging out. Some things are easier to talk about in person, y’know?”

“Sure,” Tony frowned. He hadn’t seen Peter in ages. Not since retiring really. He should have made sure to stay around, closer to home. “Sure,” he repeated, gesturing for Jarvis to bring up his calendar. “Do you wanna come to Boston? I can send Happy to bring you. Or would you rather hang out in New York?”

Peter’s tone changed instantly, suddenly bubbly and light, “I don’t mind. I’ve never been to Boston though.”

“Great, so do you want to come up on the 2nd or 3rd? Happy can pick you up after school.”

“Yeah, Mr Stark, that would be great!”

“Awesome, let Aunt May know you’ll be staying for a couple of days.”

“Will do.”

“Great,” Tony heard the front door open and close, “I gotta go, kid. Ty is back.”

“Ty?”

“You’ll meet him when you come up.”

They said their goodbyes and Tony hung up. Standing, he raised his arms above his head, stretching out his back and shoulders. Ty was setting grocery bags on the kitchen counter when Tony walked in. Tony began helping him unpack, pulling out the bleach and floor cleaner. Ty was placing some kitchen spray under the sink, along with a packet of sponges, a new set of dish towels, and a scourer. But after that there was nothing left to unpack.

“Ty,” Tony called, as Ty began to climb the stairs with a pack of toilet rolls under his arm, “what did you pick up for dinner?” Tony asked.

He opened the fridge as he asked. Nothing new was on the shelves, just a carton of milk in the door, some veg in the drawer, and couple of jars of condiments. Nothing Ty would want to eat. Tony was sure he could make something vegetarian, maybe stir fried rice, but Ty always kicked up a fuss when Tony tried to cook healthier, something without meat. Claimed he was disgracing Ty’s teaching.

“You didn’t ask me to get anything for dinner.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“No, you didn’t. I would have remembered.”

“Ty, I definitely asked you to pick up something for dinner, I gave you-“

“Are you calling me a liar?”

Tony sighed, “No, I’m not calling you a liar. I’m just saying that you might have forgotten. That’s fine, we can order take-out. I’ll pay; just give me back my card.”

Ty crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at Tony, “you never gave me your card, Tony. I think I would definitely remember that.”

“I definitely did, Ty. I gave you the card because you said you wouldn’t get paid until next week.”

“We never discussed me getting paid, honestly, what are you on about?”

Tony stood and stormed off to the garage, grabbing his wallet off his desk. He opened it and thrust it at Ty. “My AmEx card is not here, because I loaned it to you.”

“No you didn’t,” Ty raised his voice to near shouting, moving up in Tony’s space, “you probably just dropped it somewhere in the house. I bet you’re just too stupid to actually use your eyes and see it.”

Tony quickly stepped back, dropping his voice “Look, I don’t want to fight about this.”

“You called me a thief!”

“What?”

“You called me a thief and a liar,” Ty said, voice still loud in the quiet room.

Tony nodded absently as he thought. He _had_ just accused Ty of lying. It made sense that Ty would want an apology, especially if he hadn’t taken the card. No wonder he was so offended. And he was a cop, he was meant to be an example of a moral code, so why would he steal. But Tony could have sworn that he gave Ty his card. Maybe Ty turned him down, said he’d pay. Tony definitely offered his card… didn’t he? But if he never even asked Ty to pick up anything for dinner, maybe he didn’t offer his card…

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. Could you please help me find my card so I can order us some dinner?”

Ty rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Fine, I’ll help. Only because I doubt you could find water if you were swimming in a lake.”

Tony swallowed against the remark that jumped to his throat. He’d been rude accusing Ty of anything. Ty had every reason to be annoyed at him.

“I’m sorry” Tony repeated, “I appreciate your help.”

It took them the better part of an hour before Ty found his card under the couch. Ty tossed it to him.

“Must have slid out while you were sat down.”

“Sorry,” Tony stared down at the card. He couldn’t even remember if he’d sat on the couch today. “I’ll order, what would you like?”

“Thai would be lovely.”

“Okay, Thai it is. Can I get you a beer?”

“That would be great, thanks Tony.”

And once Tony handed Ty his beer, it was like all the stress of the day melted away. They settled down for a movie as they waited for their food to arrive, Ty kissing the top of Tony’s head as he wrapped an arm around his waist.

“I really love you, you know.”

“I love you too,” Tony answered.

It felt nice to have someone to watch movies with again.

May 22nd 2017 – 10:31pm

To do:

  * ~~Find credit card (or cancel if can’t find it in the house)~~ ~~~~
  * Lose weight – at least 28lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs) ~~~~
  * Give Pepper some space
  * Tame Garden




	11. Chapter 11

#  ****Chapter 11 - Keeping Up Appearances** **

May 25th 2017 – 12:36pm

To do:

  * Lose weight – at least 27lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs) ~~~~
  * Give Pepper some space
  * Tame Garden
  * Sort the details for Peter’s visit



They’d been together nearly three weeks, and everything had been scarily perfect. Sure, they had arguments like any couple, but right here, right now, in the coffee shop where they had their first date, Tony wouldn’t want anything different.

“So, your birthday is coming up, is there anything you’d like to do for it?”

Tony slowly stirred his coffee, watching the sugar dissolve. “Nothing in particular. I’ve already had quite a few birthdays, and I like to think I’m past my crazy partying days.”

“I’d hope so, they certainly show,” Ty laughed, “I hate to imagine how rough you looked the morning after.”

Tony pulled the spoon out of his coffee, sticking in his mouth, “mhmm,” he set the spoon on the table, wrapping both hand around his mug, “yeah, those weren’t some of my best moments, but since I’m talking to a cop, I’m going to plead the fifth.”

Ty laughed, “you’re not on trial here.”

“And I don’t intend to be on trial later,” Tony picked at his spinach and feta wrap, trying to figure out if it was worth the extra calories. In the end, he thought better of it. “You want the rest of this? I’m not as hungry as I thought.”

Ty nodded and ate it with gusto. “Thanks, that was delicious,” he said through his mouthful. Once he swallowed, he continued with his original topic, “your birthday, how about I cook for you? Is there anything you’d like?”

Tony grinned, “I don’t mind, what’s your speciality? Something light would be great.”

“Hmm, I’m sure I can think of something.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Tony pulled Ty in by the collar for a kiss.

Their lips met quickly; chaste in public. Tony made sure to keep it tame when out in the open. Sure, no one recognised him in Boston, but just in case someone did, he couldn’t risk the headlines. He could see it now, Tony Stark: Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist, Fa-

“-rgot?”

“Hmm,” Tony blinked, “sorry, I zoned out for a sec.”

“I was just saying, did you forget your birthday was coming up? You looked surprised by my offer to cook."

Tony laughed, "No, sorry. Just tired I guess."

"Yeah, you look it," Ty said, placing his hand on Tony's and looking up at him in concern, "you aren't looking great. Have you ever considered shaving off your beard?”

“Huh?" Tony blinked at the sudden shift in topic, "No, never thought of it.”

Ty shrugged, “it’s just a thought. It might help you look less tired. You’re aiming for incognito right? Well, why not get rid of Tony Stark’s most memorable feature?”

“I thought Iron Man was?”

Ty snorted a laugh, “Iron Man is Iron Man’s most memorable feature. But you’re just Tony Stark, right?”

Tony pulled a face, frowning down into his coffee.

“Jeez, I’m kidding, you’re so sensitive.” Ty set down his cup with a bang, the other patrons of the coffee shop looking up to glare at them.

“Sorry,” Tony muttered, head down to avoid the eyes that slowly returned to their own business, “I know you’re only joking.”

“It would make you look younger.”

“Losing the beard?”

“Yeah,” Ty took Tony’s chin in his hand, tilting his head back and forth, “you have great cheekbones, and I’d hate people to think of you as a… whatever the male version of a cougar is. A cradle robber?”

“You’re not that much younger than me.”

“But you are definitely older than me.”

“Ouch.”

“Teasing. Stop taking yourself so seriously.”

Tony held up his hands, “okay, okay, I’ll shave the beard. At least let me keep it until after Peter has gone home. The kid won’t recognise me otherwise.”

Ty laughed, “fair enough. But first thing once he’s gone.”

Tony nodded, draining the last of his coffee. “Oh by the way, can’t remember if I mentioned, but Peter is coming to visit.”

“Peter? That kid that’s gonna work for you?”

“Yeah, he wants to check out MIT.”

“How long is he up for?”

“Just a weekend, I’ve booked him a hotel, and-”

Ty frowned down at his drink. Tony cut himself off as he tried to assess Ty.

“What’s wrong?”

“Well, aren’t you being reckless with your money? Why do you need to pay for his hotel?”

Tony shrugged, “I thought it better than inviting the kid to the house.”

Ty nodded, “I guess that would be worse. I don't see why he needs to come up at all.”

"Sorry, I didn't think you'd mind." Tony suddenly felt like he was a move away from being checkmated. Like he was walking on an earthquake, the ground shifting and surging beneath him.

"It's not that I _mind_. I just don't think you're being sensible. Maybe I should meet the kid. Make sure he's not just in this for your name."

Tony laughed, "There's no worry about that. He's a good kid."

Ty pulled a face, "I still think this is a bad idea."

Tony stood up, holding his hand out for Ty’s cup, “I’m getting another coffee, do you want one?”

Emails pinged back and forth. Sorting out the details with Peter was easy enough, the kid was happy with anything. Tony had booked him into a hotel for the weekend, Happy was going to drive Peter up, and then Tony was going to show him MIT and Boston.

Maybe he’d introduce Peter to Ty.

But, maybe that would be a lot. Only Pepper and Rhodey… and he guessed Steve too, knew about his… playing for both (all?) teams. It That would be a lot to dish out to the kid over the weekend.

But Ty said he wanted to meet Peter, and take him out for dinner. It was sweet, Ty making the effort to meet the people important to him. So maybe.

Maybe not.

Maybe.

Probably.

Ty did want to meet him. At least he seemed to want to.

“Hey Ty?”

“Hmm,” Ty hummed, not looking up from his tablet. His eyes were flicking across the screen.

Tony sat down next to him, picking up Ty’s hand and lacing his fingers between. “I wanted your advice on something.”

Ty hummed again in acknowledgement.

“So…” He didn’t really know where to begin. “So, I’m… I’m not out to everyone I know. It’s not like I’m ashamed…”

“But?” Ty asked, finally setting the tablet to the side.

“But… It’s just… if people found out I wasn’t straight, then it might not end well. I’m not exactly well liked by the general public, so me lending my name to the cause might do more harm than good-”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Ty nodded, “You coming out might end up getting people hurt.”

Tony swallowed against the lump in his throat, “yeah, which is why I haven’t ever come out publicly. I’ve also got to think about things my name is connected to - Like Stark Industries. If I came out, there’s a chance the company would struggle, then-”

“Then people’s jobs would be at risk. If they lost their jobs, not only would people struggle with feeding themselves and their families, but they’d probably resent you. It kinda would be your fault, after all.”

“Yeah,” Tony sighed deeply, “and the Avengers too. Then there’s my friends to consider. Rhodey’s known me since college so he’d probably be asked all kinds of intrusive questions. Pepper would be asked if she’s the reason I batted for the other team now - because apparently there’s just gay or straight and not a damn rainbow.”

“Yeah, that would be a problem. It would be a massive burden on your friends.”

“Yeah… but I was thinking about coming out to Peter when he visits for the weekend. What do you think?”

“No,” Ty looked incredulous, “are you _crazy_?”

Tony took his hand out of Ty’s, clasping them in his lap.

“Don’t be like that. You have to think about how that will look. Peter is what, fourteen?”

“15, almost 16,” Tony corrected.

Ty gave him a look. Tony fell silent and looked at the floor.

“ _My point is_ you cannot come out to that kid. What if he tells someone-”

“Peter wouldn’t-”

“Don’t interrupt me,” Ty snapped, “He might _tell_ someone; he might not mean to but he’s a teenager. The whole point you moved here was to live quietly - you’re risking all of that. You’re risking us and what we’ve built, what we’re building. How selfish are you?!” He paused to take a breath, “Plus, it is so weird that you’d come out to a child. He’s not even your kid.”

“But he is my-”

“He isn’t your friend, Tony, he’s a kid.”

“I wasn’t going to say friend,” Tony muttered.

He didn’t finish the rest of the sentence though. Ty was right.

“That kid isn’t anything to you, other than some intern your company took on. If people knew a _gay man_ was taking special interest in _a child-_ God, you’d be- it’s not that you wouldn’t hear the end of it, that doesn’t even describe the half of it, no- those rumours would follow you everywhere Tony. You need to stop making such an effort for this kid. It’s in your own best interests.”

Realistically, Tony wasn’t anything to Peter and Peter wasn’t anything to Tony. They weren’t blood-related, and Ty was right, it’s not like they were friends. Spider-Man and Iron Man were at least colleagues, but what excuse did that give him. Ty was probably right.

“Do you think I should cancel his visit?”

“Yeah,” Ty crossed his arms over his chest, “I think that would be best.”

“Oh.”

That was that. Deep down, Ty was right. He had to consider the bigger picture. It wasn’t just himself his decisions would affect. Didn’t stop it feeling like a gut punch to be told he shouldn’t talk to the kid. But this would be better for Peter too. He could help from a distance.

That was why he moved to Boston in the first place, right? Distance.

“I’ll tell him tomorrow.”

He rubbed his eyes, saving the schematic and closing his laptop. He’d been staring at the same screen for about five hours, and he was in crying need of coffee. Ty had gone to work; he was on a night shift so there was no way Tony was sleeping anyway.

He turned on the news in the living room as he poured himself a cup of coffee. He was just in time to catch the recap of the headlines. The President had meeting. Some Pop Star was doing… something. Something about Russia. Nothing startlingly new. Nothing out of the ordinary. He drank deeply from his coffee.

“This just in, Avengers to be pardoned for crimes against the Sokovia Accords.”

Tony choked on his coffee, spitting it across the kitchen and spilling half the mug down himself.

The news presenter continued talking, as Tony carefully held his shirt away from his skin. He dropped a dishcloth and attempted to mop up the coffee with his foot.

“In an official statement from the President, The Avengers, as well as other parties who broke the Accords will receive an official pardon from the US Government. Mentioned within the statement, the Accords are being placed under review for their suitability to task.”

The screen reeled through pictures of the Avengers. He wasn’t in any of the pictures. That wouldn’t normally matter, but the report had cropped him out of the pictures. He was meant to be in them but he just… wasn’t. Eventually, the photos seemed to stand on a static picture of St- Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes from the ‘40s. They were both grinning. Carefree.

Tony didn’t think he’d ever seen Steve smile like that.

“Though no date has officially been set, this comes as great news for both Captain America and American citizens. That’s all we have today. Good night.”

The news turned to adverts and the adverts eventually melded into some TV show. Tony dropped the sodden dish cloth into the sink and set his mug in there with it. It’d annoy Ty but he’d clean it up later.

No sleep tonight.

May 25th 2017 – 7:00pm

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least 2**** ** **5**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Give Pepper some space
  * Tame Garden
  * ~~Sort the details for Peter’s visit~~
  * Cancel Peter’s visit
  * Cut Beard/Shave




	12. Chapter 12

#  ****Chapter 12 - Birthday Wishes (Don’t Hold a Candle to You)** **

May 29th 2017 – 11:00am

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least 2**** ** **5**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)****
  * Celebrate his birthday
  * Give Pepper some space
  * Tame Garden
  * ~~Cancel Peter’s visit~~ ~~~~
  * Cut Beard/Shave ~~~~



“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!”

Tony woke with a start, hands coming up to call his repulsors. Thankfully, he’d gotten rid of that suit, but still, instinctual.

Ty was grinning at him, holding a mug of coffee - Tony probably drinks too much coffee - and that day’s newspaper.

“Come on sleepy head, gotta get out of bed!”

Tony nodded, gratefully accepting the coffee. It tasted slightly burnt, but honestly, he’d take anything right now. Coffee consumed, he quickly flicked through the paper. The front page was still covering the Avengers so a massive picture of them all stared back at him. Almost like they were wishing him a happy birthday too.

Almost.

He folded the paper up and left it on Ty’s side of the bed. A shower was calling him, the blast of warm water enough to wake him up.

“Tony?” Ty called from the door, “don’t take too long! You’ll miss you’re own birthday.”

Tony yelled back in the affirmative, switching the water off and getting out the shower. He placed himself in front of the floor length mirror and stood tall, shoulders back. Tried to stand with good posture - he’d fallen out of the habit, hunched over his desk - and turned. Lifted his chin. Lowered it again. He pushed a hand against his stomach, taking a deep breath in. He let his breath go and felt his stomach sag back. With a deep sigh, he wrapped a towel around his waist.

Ty was waiting for him in the bedroom, sat on the edge of the bed. He stood as soon as he saw Tony, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Someone’s excited,” Tony laughed, “what’s the plan today?”

“I’ll tell you downstairs,” Ty pressed a kiss to Tony’s lips, one hand coming up to his cheek. “Hurry up!”

Tony had never gotten dressed faster.

The living room was full of colour. Reds, bright and dark and deep. Pinks, blushes and peaches and pearls. Yellows, golden and pale and vibrant. The room was full of flowers: sunflowers bent over him, tulips covering the kitchen, roses in big bouquets filling the living room. There were lilies and carnations, and flowers he didn’t even know the name of. The room smelt fresh and sweet and alive. Tony picked up the nearest flower; its petals were slender and a beautiful ultramarine blue.

“Do you like them?” Ty asked, hands behind his back as he swung back and forth.

Tony inhaled deeply from the nearest bouquet - red tulips - grinning, “you better be kidding? Of course I do! This is amazing, how did you do all of this?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets.”

“Well, this is definitely magical,” Tony could feel the warmth in his cheeks; no one had ever bought him flowers. He was usually the one doing the buying.

“Aww, are you blushing?”

“No,” Tony quickly replied, trying to fight the urge to cover his cheeks with his hands.

“C’mon,” Ty beguiled, “you can tell me, I won’t tell anyone.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but was betrayed by the huge grin he wore. “Fine. I blushed. Past tense. Never happening again.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“Never ever?”

“Nope.”

“Not even, say, if the most wonderful boyfriend has gotten you a present?”

“...keep talking.”

Ty pulled out the present he was hiding behind his back. It was a large package, but thin. It was wrapped so perfectly, paper a pale yellow with a deep green ribbon tying the whole thing together. Tony sat on the sofa and pulled at the ribbon, letting it slowly come undone. Sliding a nail under the tape, he freed the present from its paper confinement. And he was left with a plain, brown, cardboard box.

“Open it,” Ty said excitedly.

Tony opened the box and pulled out a wooden frame. Behind the glass was a black vinyl record. Written across the vinyl in silver were the lyrics to Bon Jovi’s _You Give Love a Bad Name._ It was beautiful.

“The first song we danced to.” Tony blinked, eyes misting over. God, Ty was right, he could feel his cheeks heating up; he was blushing again.

Ty nudged him, “don’t be silly, you can’t cry, it’s your birthday.” Ty gave him another nudge, “Knew you’d like it.”

“I love it,” Tony grinned at him, “where should we hang it?”

“How about your workshop? That way you can see it and think of me whenever you’re having to work.”

“Perfect!” Tony exclaimed, “let’s hang it up after lunch!”

The weather turned foul; Tony and Ty decided to spend the day curled up on the sofa watching movies. After all, as Tony put it, they were basically in a botanical garden with all the flowers.

“Oooh, this is my favourite part! Look at the costumes! I want his jacket.”

“You said that the last week. We weren’t even watching it then.”

“Yeah, but God, look at him. Bowie was a perfect cast for this.”

Ty rolled his eyes, “you said _that_ last week too. Also, shut up, I haven’t seen this before, I’m trying to watch.”

“Sorry,” Tony whispered, before snuggling against Ty.

The movie rolled on and when it finished, Ty stood up and stretched.

“Lunch?”

“Sure, what are we having?”

“You said you wanted to watch what you ate, so I’ve made you a grilled chicken salad, with a lemon and basil dressing.”

Tony beamed, “that sounds amazing. Anything I can do to help?”

“Nah, just sit and relax; it’s your birthday.”

They sat on the floor, surrounded by the bouquets. Ty had laid out a picnic blanket, and they toasted to Tony with a glass of champagne.

“To us,” Tony toasted.

“To you,” Ty countered, “and to many more birthdays together.”

They clinked glasses and drank. Ty began dishing out food, offering Tony his salad, while he ate fried chicken, fresh fruit, and pastries. Tony ate slowly, savouring the taste. It was delicious - he could never fault anything Ty made.

“You have to show me how you made this.”

“It’s easy,” Ty smiled, “but yeah, I guess I’ll have to show you. You are a bit hopeless in the kitchen.”

“Oh come on, I’m getting better,” Tony laughed, “but I appreciate the help.”

“Complete lost cause, you are.”

Tony poked his tongue out. Ty laughed and bumped him with his shoulder. “You all done with this,” he asked, lifting up Tony’s empty plate. At Tony’s nod, Ty carried it to the kitchen. He kept his back turned to Tony.

“What are you doing?” Tony peered over the couch.

“Nothing, nosey. Now close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Just trust me.”

Tony closed his eyes and waited. He could hear Ty moving around in the kitchen and then felt him brush past his shoulders. It took a moment for him to realise Ty had sat down opposite him.

“Okay, open your eyes.”

The room was darkened. The curtains were closed and doors shut. The entire room was lit by candles which stood on top of a decadent chocolate cakes. The cake was beautiful, there was no other word for it. Shards of chocolate stuck out from the top of the cake, held down by a dark chocolate ganache. It was dusted in cocoa powder. _Happy Birthday_ was written in cursive across the top of the cake, the icing standing stark in white chocolate. The smell was sweet and heavy.

“Hurry, make a wish. The wax is melting.”

Tony closed his eyes. What should he wish for? He had Ty, and Pepper and Rhodey. Peter was doing well. From what T’Challa told him, the Avengers were alive and healthy. He didn’t feel right asking for more. But he could feel Ty’s eyes on him so he made a wish. Or a hope.

_I hope things turn out okay._

A vague hope. But that’s all he wanted. For things to be okay.

He blew out the candles in one breath. Ty cut him a gargantuan slice, cutting himself a sliver. The thing was massive. Daunting. What smelt sweet now smelt sickly. It stood before him, icing glistening and saccharine.

“Ty, I think that piece is going to be a bit much for me. Can we trade pieces?”

Ty frowned, “But I made it for you.”

“I know, and I appreciate it but it’s a lot of cake in one go for me.”

“Don’t you love me?”

“Of course I do, but-”

“You never appreciate anything I do.”

“I really do, the cake is gorgeous and looks delicious-”

“Then why are you complaining about the cake?”

“Ty, I-”

“You are such an ungrateful asshole.”

“Sorry,” Tony took the plate, “sorry. I really do appreciate it.” He broke off a piece of cake with his fork, popping it into his mouth. “It’s delicious. Sorry, I didn’t mean to be ungrateful. It’s delicious. Sorry.”

“That’s okay, I forgive you. You just need to think about others more. I know it’s your birthday, but that doesn’t mean you get to act like a spoiled kid.”

“I know. Sorry.”

Ty seemed satisfied with Tony’s apology. Tony picked at the cake, eating it slowly. It was making him feel sick. So much sugar. But Ty was watching him, so Tony ate all the cake. And when lunch was finished with, Tony cleaned up the plates, thanking Ty for the food.

They walked into Tony’s workshop, Tony looking at the walls to see where would be best to hang the record Ty got him. Ty walked a circuit of the room, picking up an inspecting various bits and bobs Tony had left over the place. He walked past Dummy who was charging in the corner, reaching up to a shelf with Tony’s works-in-progress on it.

“What’s this?” Ty asked, holding up a box with wires poking out of it.

Tony glanced at it, “Abandoned prototype, couldn’t get the size down. I need to work on shrinking the tech that needs to go in it.”

“Yeah, but…” Ty turned the box over in his hands, “What is it? What does it do?”

“Oh, it’s a portable doctor. It was meant to be able to analyse breath, blood, and saliva to provide a rudimentary diagnosis for an issue. Meant to be for armed forces. But yeah, the technology isn’t quite there yet. I need to run more tests which I can’t do here - I need my things back at the compound.”

Ty hummed, setting back the box with a loud thud. “You think they’ll want you back there when they come back?” His tone was light but his words were careful.

Tony sat down heavily in his chair. Thinking for a moment, he finally responded, “No. No I don’t. But I don’t have as good of a lab anywhere else. I need to go there and fix a lot of things.”

“You can’t fix them.”

“What?”

“I know I don’t know everything about what happened and I really don’t want to bring you down, not today of all days, but you need to know. You shouldn’t go back to them.”

Tony smiled, “I know. I just want my lab.”

Ty laughed awkwardly, smile lingering just a moment too long, “well, if that’s all. So… where are we hanging it then?”

Tony raised his hands, thumb and index finger coming up to form a frame that he squared up against the wall. “I’m thinking… right above my desk. That way, when I’ve had to read the same report for the sixth time, I can look up and know someone loves me, even if the guys in my R&D department definitely don’t.”

A more genuine laugh this time, Ty rested his head on Tony’s shoulder. “Good idea. No matter what happens, I’ll always love you. Always and forever.”

“Forever and always,” Tony mirrored.

They spent the rest of the day listening to the rain and watching that dumb reality TV show that Ty liked and Tony liked because Ty liked it. Ty always described it as mindless, and a good distraction, but Tony disagreed. It was mostly just people arguing and sleeping with each other. Mindless, maybe, but not distracting. It wasn’t until the sun started setting that Ty stretched his arms above his head with a yawn.

“I got the early shift tomorrow, I’m off to bed.”

“I got some stuff to finish up in the workshop, I’ll be up in a bit.”

Ty leaned down and kissed him, lips soft and gentle as he ran a hand up Tony’s neck, “don’t be up too late. And Tony,” he pulled back, cupping Tony’s cheek, “happy birthday. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And for a moment Tony wanted to cry. Just a moment. That ache in his chest, the hole, it felt like Ty had filled it in a little bit. But Ty went upstairs and Tony was left alone. He headed to the workshop. He had an idea on how to shrink the tech for that medical device.

A chirp. No, beeps, electronic. At first he thought it was his phone. Maybe an email from Peter having a go at him for cancelling. But he had no new notifications (and always kept his phone on silent anyway). So maybe his laptop? But it wasn’t that either. TV? But the TV was off in his workshop, and Ty had gone to bed so it wasn’t him. Ty’s phone? Not that either, it had run out of battery so it was turned off and charging in the kitchen. So what then? He rifled through his drawers, searching for anything that could have made that sound. He had so much paperwork hidden away - he needed to sort out his desk at some point. He thought he’d mostly finished with making it all paperless but every drawer he checked revealed more. The beeps happened again, louder this time but somehow sounded muffled, like they were covered by his paperwork.

No.

It might not be his phone, but it was _his_ phone. And if he was receiving a text, maybe there was trouble.

He took everything out of his bottom drawer and opened up the false bottom. There it was, screen still lit from the notification. Letter lying next to it. He picked it up, turning it over in his hands.

Fidgeting. Natasha once pointed out he fidgeted a lot. His hands stilled , fingernails prying at the edges of the clamshell phone. He should check the message. What if it was the end of the world? He opened the phone up, eyes flashing through the message, looking for any hidden meaning or sign of danger. Nothing. He reread it:

_Hey Tony,_

_Happy Birthday! I hope I made it in time; the time zones always confuse me._

_I hope you’re doing well - are you eating and sleeping enough? I hope so._

_I know it’s been a while, and we didn’t leave under the best of circumstances but the team and I will be coming back to the US soon. I don’t know if you’ve heard. I was hoping that we could talk when I get back._

_I miss you._

_Always yours,_

_Steve_

May 29th 2017 – 11:59pm

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least 2**** ** **5**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)****
  * ~~Celebrate his birthday~~ ~~~~
  * ~~Reply to Steve. Delete the text. Reply to Steve. Don’t reply.~~ ~~~~
  * Give Pepper some space
  * Tame Garden
  * Cut Beard/Shave
  * Sort out paperwork



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone wondering, the film Tony and Ty are watching is Labyrinth, and in particular they are watching this scene:
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VppuD1St8Ec


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings in the chapter:
> 
> \- behaviour consistent with eating disorders

#  ****Chapter**** ** **13 - Notebooks and Counting****

May 31st 2017 – 11:30am

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least 2**** ** **4**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Give Pepper some space
  * Tame Garden
  * Cut Beard/Shave
  * ~~Sort out paperwork~~ ~~~~



“Honey, do you really think you should…” Ty’s eyes fell on the pizza slice Tony had just taken a bite of. “I’m just thinking about your health.”

And suddenly that Pizza Veronese didn’t seem all that appetising: all that cheese and carbs. Tony flagged down the waiter.

“Sorry to be a pain, any chance I could get this to take away and order a salad instead - whichever has the lowest calories.”

The waiter nodded and took the pizza away, bringing it back in a takeaway box, along with the salad. Tony handed the slice he’d already taken over to Ty, and picked his way through a slightly wilted salad.

“I’m so proud of you,” Ty commented, “you’re making a conscious decision to eat healthier and that’s really brave of you.”

Tony nodded absently, trying to skewer some sad looking leaves with his fork. The dressing was on the side so he left it there. It was too oily for him anyway. He needed to be more careful about what he ate. He could feel the weight clinging to him. It was like the entire restaurant was staring at him and his food.

“I’m sorry Ty, I’m not really that hungry. Wanna skip dessert today?”

Ty smiled and nodded, “of course, it would be so difficult for you to sit there and not have any while I ate dessert. I’m happy to skip to help you.”

He stepped off the scales. One hundred and eighty. Why wasn’t he losing weight beyond the odd pound or so? It felt like he’d been stagnating. But that couldn’t be. If he wasn’t asleep, or working, he was exercising.

Maybe exercising wasn’t enough.

He still ate a fair amount. There was that slice of pizza for lunch - so many carbs - and he’d eaten so much over his birthday. Ty had cooked for him - he’d mostly had the salad, but how many calories were there in the dressing? Ty had made it from scratch so he didn’t know. And there was the cake too - just adding to the carbs. He should probably keep track of everything he eats - keep tabs on calories and nutritional content. He could ask Jarvis to do it, but Jarvis wouldn’t be able to track him at the office, and he’d rather keep Friday out of this.

He’d do it by hand.

Manually write down each and every thing he put in his mouth. It would make himself more aware of it.

He ran downstairs - any exercise would help - and rummaged through his desk in the garage.

“Is there anything I can help you find, Sir?”

“Where do I keep my spare notebooks? Or even pen and paper for now?”

“Right hand side-” Tony switched sides of the desk, pulling open the top drawer “-bottom drawer.”

Heaving a sign, he knelt down and tugged open the bottom drawer. He hated this drawer, always caught a little, and despite many, many, _many_ attempts, he never seemed able to fix it. 

But he found a notebook - a slim reporter’s style notebook in a brown leather case - which would do. The case had a H.S. monogrammed on it in gold lettering, and a pencil tucked into the side. It was slim enough to keep tucked in his jacket without being obvious.

He began to write:

\- pizza

\- salad, no dressing

\- cups of coffee x4 (black, no sugar)

“Jay, what else have I eaten today?”

“I believe that’s everything sir.”

Tony shook his head. He was sure he was forgetting something. He tapped the notebook with his pencil. He’d had water at the restaurant and he skipped both a starter and a dessert. But there must be something, because why wasn’t the weight going. Something he’d forgotten. He’d have to add it later when he remembered.

The water was running loudly as Tony entered the bedroom. Tony could hear Ty humming in the shower. It was cute. Ty didn’t really sing often, but something about his voice when he was singing made Tony feel gooey inside. There was something warm and rough about it. Old school rock mixed with country. Tony tapped on the door, feeling bad for interrupting his song.

“Hey Ty,” he called through the door, “what did we have for breakfast today?”

The water stopped, and Ty opened the door. Water was dripping over him, hair stuck down onto his skull. Drops clung to his eyelashes. He appeared to think for a moment.

“I had bacon and eggs, but you said that would be too heavy for you. Said you’d sort yourself out.”

“Thanks,” Tony pressed a quick kiss on Ty’s lips, before making a note in his notebook.

“What’s that?”

“Food diary.”

“So what you’re eating? Good idea, makes you more aware of what you’re putting in your body.”

Tony nodded, setting the notebook on the bedside table. His pencil rolled off and along the floor, disappearing beneath the bed.

“Damn.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Dropped my pencil.”

Tony groped blindly under the bed, “ow!” He pulled his hand back. A shard of glass was sticking out his middle finger, “what the-?”

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just some broken glass.”

“Well, if you actually cleaned up, maybe there wouldn’t be.”

“Sorry, give me a sec to clean up the blood first.”

He pulled the glass out, and ran the wound under the faucet in the bathroom. Looking at it, it probably didn’t need stitches, but he wrapped some gauze around it before bandaging it up. At least being an Avenger had helped in learning first aid. His first aid kit was mostly empty and the supplied that remained were old now. He’d need to restock it soon.

He walked back to the bed, lying flat on his stomach to look for the culprit of his injured hand. There was something wooden lying under the bed. Tony reached for it carefully. When he pulled it out, six grinning faces stared back at him.

“What is it?”

“Photo of the team.”

“You must have knocked it off the end table at some point.”

“But,” Tony frowned down at the busted frame. A shard of glass slid down from the top to the bottom. “I don’t keep it on the end table. I kept it in the bottom drawer.”

“Tony, what are you on about? You’ve always kept it on the end table.”

Tony shook his head, “I definitely kept it in the drawer.” He could feel their eyes on him, staring out of the photo as he held their broken frame in his hands.

“Nuh-uh,” Ty shook his head, “whenever I brought you coffee, it was always on the side.”

“But…”

But if he kept it in the drawer, how would it have gotten under the bed? It made more sense for Tony to have knocked it off the end table. Maybe while he was asleep.

“I always thought it was weird you had a photo of your ex next to our bed.”

Ty’s tone was sharp. Like a warning, but without warning to it. It took Tony a moment to place his tone. Jealousy.

“There’s nothing to worry about. Captain America and I are over.”

“Still weird to keep a photo of your _ex boyfriend_ on the end table of the bed where your _current boyfriend_ sleeps.”

“Well, it’s not just of him.”

“Oh, yeah," Ty rolled his eyes, "it’s of the people that stabbed you in the back. _So much better._ ”

Tony gripped the frame tightly, “It’s more complicated than that.”

“Is it?” Ty challenged.

Tony nodded, running his good hand through his hair, “yeah. I guess I should tell you what happened.”

They talked for hours. Or Tony did. He talked about everything. Afghanistan and the battery. The arc reactor. How he felt betrayed when he found out it was Obadiah. How he felt used and manipulated. And the creation of Iron Man. What it felt like to be soaring and free and doing good in the world. And that moment of terror when Obie paralysed him. How he fought tooth and nail to get his heart back.

He talked about Hammer and Vanko. How he was out of control. How he thought he was dying. How much he hated Rhodey for taking the suit. How much he understood why Rhodey did. How deep down, he wanted Rhodey to take it, take the torch from him - Rhodey was more suited to it anyway. He talked about Natalie Rushman and the moment she walked into that diner as Natasha Romanoff. How he never expected it, but somehow wasn’t surprised. It felt like life had dealt him a shitty hand but drawing cards kept making it worse. He felt like he was losing the game over and over.

He talked about the Avengers, meeting them for the first time. How Captain America seemed like a dick, but that he was really dealing with his own stuff that Tony was barely in a place to comprehend. How he fought with Thor and the Captain tried to make them stop. How he met Bruce and tried to get him to open up and… relax. But Captain America didn’t view it that way - he thought Tony was trying to endanger them. He talked about the aliens and the wormhole and how he was prepared to die adrift in space. And he talked about the fact he didn’t.

He talked about Killian and the realisation that his past was always going to be stuck to him. About how Pepper couldn’t take it any more. They broke up. And Tony kind of stopped trying after that. With finding love at least. He focussed on the Avengers. They became his whole world. He spent all his time researching and building and helping them. He built his life around them. But then he destroyed it.

He told Ty about his… Tony still couldn’t shake the idea of it being a prophecy. That it was bound to happen. That the Chitauri would come back. So he tried to build something that would protect them. But… the world saw how that went. Tony still couldn’t forgive himself for that.

Then there were the Accords. Sides forming. Olive branches rejected. Natasha switching sides. Clint coming out of retirement to get involved with something he didn’t have to, and then blamed Tony for it. Tony realising that they’d been chasing the wrong man the entire time.

“Captain America seemed to think we were going to imprison Barnes. I never wanted that. It’s not like I had final say, but I would have fought to protect him, you know? He was important to Rogers.”

“You were dating him at the time.”

Tony pondered, lying back on the bed. “We weren’t ever really dating. Not really. We slept together. I loved him. No one else knew. Just me and him. And now you.”

Ty nodded, taking the frame out of Tony’s hands to look down at the picture.

“So I chased them both to Siberia. I still wanted to help. But in the end, I was played. Again. Maybe Zemo was waiting for me. Maybe he was improvising. But he showed me something.”

A Ty’s curious noise, Tony continued.

“A video. Grainy, bad quality. A security camera from the side of a road. It was like he wanted to get caught. There were no other cameras on that road.” Tony took a breath. His chest was tight. He wanted to pretend this never happened. “It was their car- my parents’ car. All I could do was watch as my parents’ car crashed and my dad crawled across the ground, trying to get to mom. I could hear her.”

He hadn’t meant to start crying. But even now, he could hear their voices.

“I had to watch as Sergeant Barnes,” Tony tried to force the lump in his throat down, “as he killed my dad. My mom could only watch. And then he choked her.”

“Tony that’s-”

“Steve knew. Steve knew all along who he was defending.”

“Wow. That’s- That’s a lot.”

Tony nodded, “yeah. I almost went for Barnes when I first found out. But Steve stopped me. Just… there was something about him, maybe he wasn’t surprised enough. But I knew he knew.”

“What happened then?”

“I snapped. I lost control. I- I don’t really know what I was feeling. I wasn’t right in the head. I wanted Barnes to suffer - I don’t even know if I wanted him to die or just feel pain - I was hell-bent on getting Barnes. Steve came to his aid, of course he did. If he hadn’t, I might have killed him. But they, they went after me as hard as I went after Barnes.”

“But you said you might have killed him?” Ty’s voice was brimming with concern, “do you think they were trying to kill you?”

Tony nodded, “yeah. I’m not sure, but that’s what it felt like. I still have nightmares about that day. That’s where some of the scars are from. Barnes tried to rip out the arc reactor in the suit. Steve destroyed it via shield to the chest. None of this was my finest moment. I lost control.”

“It happens, and after a shock like that, who can blame you.”

“I’m not excusing it.”

“Did they destroy your suit?”

Tony nodded, resting his hands on his stomach.

“Then how did you get back from Siberia?”

“Oh, that. I had to call General Ross. Rhodey had to come get me. I was drafted in as the Avengers liaison as punishment for my crimes. Punishment doesn’t fit, honestly. He only wanted me to be liaison, try and talk to them about the new accords. But they should get to come home. It’s not their fault. It’s my fault. So I’ve been working on the Accords since. And a bunch of other things to help improve the quality of life.”

“What are you going to do once they’re back?”

Tony shrugged, “I’ve only planned as far as getting the New Accords signed. After that… no idea.”

“Retire. Get away from them. They are awful people Tony. Not one of them trusted you. Not a single one. They lied and blind sided you constantly. They are the worst.”

“Yeah, I know I should.”

“You don’t need any of them. You’ve got me. You just need me.”

Tony grinned, watery and weak, but at least Ty got him smiling, “I’m so glad I have you. Thanks for listening to all this.”

“But Tony, do me a favour?”

“Anything.”

“Get rid of that photo.”

May 31st 2017 – 5:24pm

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least 2**** ** **4**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Get rid of the photo
  * Give Pepper some space
  * Tame Garden
  * Cut Beard/Shave
  * Restock First Aid Kit



Food Eaten:

  * Pizza
  * Salad, no dressing
  * Cups of coffee x4 (black, no sugar)
  * Toast (dry)



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiatus for about a week - visiting home and my sister is finding out if she still has a job during that time so I wanna be there for her, so I won't be posting for a week or so.
> 
> Sorry and back soon
> 
> Wish my sister luck!


	14. Chapter 14

June 2nd 2017 – 5:24am

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least 2**** ** **2**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * ~~Get rid of the photo (move all old photos into the attic)~~
  * Give Pepper some space
  * Tame Garden
  * Cut Beard/Shave
  * Restock First Aid Kit



Now he wasn’t seeing Peter, he didn’t really have an excuse. Peering over his shoulder, Ty met his eyes in the mirror with a smile, reaching round Tony to grab his toothbrush.

“You’ll look great once you do it.”

Tony nodded, picking up the shaving cream Ty had bought him the night before. He’d even gone out and gotten him a really nice razor; it was made of solid metal and came in a solid metal case. It looked nice. And, as Ty put it, since he was going to be shaving more, he might as well have a nice razor to do it with. Smearing shaving cream on, he gripped the razor in his hand. He sighed.

Let’s get this over with.

He ran the blades over his cheeks and across his chin, until there was nothing but pink skin beneath. He washed away the rest of the shaving cream, drying his face with a towel.

Moment of truth.

He didn’t look… horrible. It would take getting used to.

“You look… good.”

“Why the pause?” Tony touched his cheeks, running his hand over the smooth skin.

It felt strange. He would have felt less exposed if he’d stripped naked in the middle of Times Square. Somehow his face felt cold. Surely that was psychological. He doubted that it would make this much of a different.

“Well…” Ty paused again.

“It looks awful doesn’t it.”

“No… I just… your hair is getting long,” Ty ran his fingered through Tony’s hair. “You’d look better with shorter hair. Your haircut - or lack thereof - just makes you look… unkempt.”

“Unkempt?”

Tony tried not to look like a mess, but maybe he’d spent too long not paying attention to his appearance.

“Yeah, you know. Ungroomed. Shaggy. Untidy.”

“Oh.”

So the beard was only partly the issue. Tony wrapped a strand of his hair around his finger. It was getting long. He hadn’t cut it since moving.

“How would you do it?” Tony asked.

Ty ran his hands through Tony’s hair. He pulled at a few strands. “Maybe like Chris Hemsworth - he’s so hot - or Jake Gyllenhaal.”

“I think they’re both straight, otherwise I’d introduce you,” Tony laughed.

Ty frowned in the mirror, “you know them.”

“Barely, I met them maybe five years ago through a friend of a friend of a friend.”

Ty’s expression soured. He dropped his hands from Tony’s hair, pushing him out the way of the sink. “Yeah, fix your hair. _Before_ I get home.”

Finding a last minute hair appointment had been a hassle, but he managed it. So now he had shortened hair instead of his longer, flatter curls that had grow unruly since his last hair cut. He looked in the mirror. He felt oddly… bare. He felt like the lines around his eyes stood out more, not less. And the grey around his temple seemed more prominent. Maybe he was just good at picking out the flaws in his own face.

He pulled at his cheeks. He still needed to lose weight. He’d skip lunch.

T’Challa looked as regal as ever, despite it being somewhere in the early hours of the morning for him. Tony always thought it strange that he never wore a crown - Kings wore crowns, that’s what he’d always been told - but it didn’t seem to be a think in Wakanda. T’Chaka never wore one. Maybe it was a formality, ceremonial. Kings must like hanging around in sweatpants like the rest of the general populous.

The phone call was a mess. They’d been running in circles around a particular clause, neither finding a solution.

“I could ask my sister.”

Tony hummed, not quite agreeing, “I don’t want to get more people involved at this stage. It’s already bad enough that I have to send this back and forth to lawyers. I want to be able to trace any possible leaks.”

“Shuri is trustworthy, I assure you.”

“I don’t doubt it, but I’m paranoid.”

“Very well, but what you’re suggesting will not work long-term.”

“Yes, but it can be amended at a later date. We need to satisfy congress, and it would be easier to sneak a small change past them than it would to go at them with this.”

“Yes, but you need the Avengers to sign it. They’ll never agree to this.”

Tony signed, about to run a hand through his hair before freezing. It had been styled, he should probably not touch it. He wanted to look good for Ty.

“I know they won’t agree, but I can’t think of an alternative.”

“Why don’t we move on for now? We can revisit this later,” T’Challa suggested kindly.

Tony sighed again, “We don’t have later, the pardon is coming up far faster than I’d like. I want this ready for when they come back.”

“I understand. However, I feel that you are pushing this, and yourself, too much. You have time.”

“Time is exactly what I don’t have. I still have to sort out the compound, and train Peter-”

“Peter?”

“The plan is for him to take over for me as liaison at some point - I think it’s once he’s done with college, but it might be sooner.”

“That is a lot to put on a child.”

“I know. But I can’t do this forever. And Ross doesn’t want me to do it for more than a year - once it’s signed, I’m out. He’s got someone to cover temporarily until Peter’s older. Won’t tell me who.”

“That seems foolish.”

“I know, like surely I’ll need to prepare to handover everything to them-”

“I meant about forcing you to step down.”

“Not really, I’m compulsive, have self-destructive tendencies, narcissistic, it’s all in my file. I’m surprised I was his first choice honestly. I’d hate to see who they had lined up if I refused.”

“I don’t think they would have expected you to refuse.”

Tony idly threw a screwdriver in the air, catching it before throwing it again, “probably not. They did have me in a bit of a bind.”

There was silence for a moment. And then, “was that the only reason you accepted the position?”

“Pretty much. Don’t particularly want to work for people that hate me.”

“With, you’ll be working _with_ people that miss you.”

Tony laughed, ugly snorting. He had to set the phone down for a moment, “I didn’t realise kings were allowed a sense of humour, but that was a good one.”

“I am certain of it.”

“Yeah, well, tell them to ring once in a while if they miss me _so_ much.”

“So I may give them this number?”

“What? No, of course not. They can call Friday, and she can save all of their zero messages for me. I can play them back when I’m feeling too important.” Tony heard the door open and close. “I have to go. I’ll try to think of a solution and I’ll email you some possibilities.”

“Very well, rest easy.”

“Thanks your majesty.”

Tony could _hear_ T’Challa’s grimace before he ended the call.

He still couldn’t believe what T’Challa had said about the Avengers. Even the thought of Natasha or Clint giving him a call just to chat made him want to laugh.

Ty poked his head round the door, “I brought home Thai, come get it while it’s hot.”

“Thanks, I’ll be right out,” Tony shut the door, glancing up at the ceiling. “Jarvis, of what Ty has ordered, what has the least calories?”

“The Pumpkin Kaeng Phed sir, but-”

“Thanks Jarvis,” Tony quickly jotted down the name of the dish in his notebook, “and calories count?”

“The entire container would be approximately 312 calories.”

Tony pulled a face, murmuring to himself, “maybe I’ll just have half. And no rice. And I’ll just drink water.”

Before Jarvis could say another word, Tony was out the door.

“Smells great,” Tony declared as he approached the kitchen. But he stopped as he reached the countertops. “Ty, why is your gun on the side?”

Ty shrugged, mouth full of rice noodles still half tangled in chopsticks.

“Isn’t that your police issue gun?”

Ty nodded, still shovelling in more food.

“Don’t you have to hand those in at the end of the day or something?”

Shaking his head, Ty swallowed his mouthful, “No, it’s like our badges. We keep them on us.”

“Oh.” Tony paused, “can we keep it in a drawer or something? I don’t really like having guns lying out.”

“Why? Does it make you _uncomfortable_?” And there was something in Ty’s tone that just… didn’t feel right. “ _Please_ , you used to make guns, this is nothing.”

“But what about safety?”

“I leave it out for safety. What if someone broke in right now? At least my gun is to hand and we can defend ourselves. You’re so _European.”_ he sneered around the word.

Tony laughed awkwardly, “I guess that’s the Italian in me.”

“Well, Mr Italiano, dig in before the food gets cold.”

Tony picked up a pair of disposable wooden chopsticks, and the box of Kaeng Phed. He split the sticks, and of course, one of them snapped in half. Just his luck.

June 2nd 2017 – 8:37pm

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least 2**** ** **2**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Give Pepper some space
  * Tame Garden
  * Restock First Aid Kit
  * Finish the Accords (RUNNING OUT OF TIME)



Food Eaten:

  * Cups of coffee x6 (black, no sugar)
  * An apple
  * Half a box of Kaeng Phed




	15. Chapter 15

#  ****Chapter 15 - Worst Case Scenarios** **

June 7th 2017 – 1:00am

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least 2**** ** **0**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * ~~Give Pepper some space~~ Stop missing her - Ty said this was for the best ~~~~
  * Tame Garden
  * Restock First Aid Kit
  * Finish the Accords (RUNNING OUT OF TIME)



Those luminescent numbers were mocking him. Ty’s snores were like jeers from the crowd of memories that kept him awake. That text on a phone downstairs remained without a response but it was like it was being sent a hundred times a minute in his head.

He couldn’t think of anything to say.

What was there to say?

He could tell Steve about his life, catch up. But then, would it seem like bragging? He had that white picket fence life Steve had wanted. Or would it look like he was trying to make Steve jealous if he spoke about Ty? He wasn’t petty enough for that, but maybe Steve thought he was.

He could discuss the new Accords. Except he wasn’t meant to know about those. They were being kept hush hush and he’d retired. They weren’t anything to do with him until he was in the same room as them, pretending he’d only been given the papers the night before.

He could talk about the team, see how they’re doing. But… well, he still had his pride. Not much of it, but enough that he would rather swallow a hot poker than ask about them.

So that message was left unanswered.

He rolled over onto his side, and then back onto his back. With a sigh, he gave up. Why was it so difficult to sleep when everything was so loudly quiet?

Pulling on his dressing gown, pressed a kiss to Ty's cheek before slipping down the stairs silently. Ty hadn’t so much as stirred, he was so tired. Despite the summer sun that had blasted down all day, hours later it was like winter had come. The floor was stone cold beneath his feet, and his skin was marked with goosebumps. He carried his laptop into the living room, flicking between documents, news sites, and designs. There were a few articles on the Avengers coming back but mostly they were just speculative. There were even fewer that mentioned him at all, and all of them were just trying to explain why the band split. His favourite theory was Cosmo’s which suggested, thanks to “a knowledgeable insider”, Tony was kicked out the group because the rest of the team felt he wasn’t taking Avenging seriously thanks to the parade of models that came through his bedroom. He didn’t even recognise the names of any of the models listed. And sure, in his wild party days that might not have meant much, but now he knew the names of the people who stayed in his bed. Buzzfeed’s was closer to the mark but only in the same way that a pizza was closer to being a sandwich than a rock was. The article suggested he and Natasha had been a couple but she’d dumped him for a hot Danish man which is why they fought.

People were nut-cases.

But Tony was worse, because he was the one obsessively reading dumb posts at 2am.

He had to focus on the Accords. At least the pardon was sorted. Mostly. The date was still being arranged, but at least he wasn’t a part of that.

Checking his emails, he saw several from Rhodey that he really should have replied to last week, and one from Pepper.

Everything in her email could have been sorted on a phone call.

She could have just called him.

Tony pulled out his phone, bringing up her contact details with a tap of his speed dial. It would be easier to sort out over the phone. She wanted his opinion on Accords things and Pardon things. It would be easier on the phone.

His finger hovered over the call button.

It was two in the morning though. She was probably asleep.

He opened up Rhodey’s contact details instead. They hadn’t texted in a while. Not that they did often, but somehow the absence of it felt like more this time. Like he would be intruding if he sent a text. And that intrusion would be a thousand times worse if he called. He slipped his phone back in his pocket.

He typed out a brief reply to their emails. Rhodey was asking him for updates on the Accords. He was acting as Tony’s beta reader for them, checking how they’d come across from an Avenging point of view. Tony had been out of the game for so long that he thought it best. Pepper asked him what dates he’d be available for the Pardon as she and Rhodey were hoping to see him there.

But to see him there, he’d have to be going.

And he definitely wasn’t.

So he said in a week, because there’s no way they could get everything arranged in seven days. They’d need a venue, and a TV crew - because of course it’s going to be televised - lighting, and all the officials. Rhodey would need to be free too, and they’d have to fly all the Avengers back and go through security. There was no way they could get everything arranged by the 14th. And he could _only_ do the 14th which was _such_ a shame, oh well, he’d see them all next time he was in town.

He wandered back into the workshop, picking up that clamshell phone and walking around the ground floor. He tossed it from hand to hand. He didn’t know what to do with it. He wanted to destroy it. Blast it with a repulsor and then use whatever salvageable parts he could to make a much better phone.

But he couldn’t.

It was his last line to them.

What if the world was ending? What if another portal opened up in the sky, and there was no nuke to save them?

It was a lifeline, not just for him, but for the world. It’s why the Accords really needed to be finished before they arrived back in the US.

Tony set the phone down next to his laptop on the coffee table, and opened up the Accords. Again, he combed through the document from the beginning. There were easily over a thousand pages, including citations and indexing of previous legislation that he’d had to look into that might help support his case. He couldn’t see anything new, but he’d been staring at this document for months now. He still had that awful feeling he was missing something obvious. Something stupid and he’d look like an idiot when he presented it to the Avengers. Couldn’t be too careful.

Hours passed by and eventually dawn light touched down. Tony yawned, carefully saving and closing the document. A few spelling errors but no major changes. He opened up his emails to check again quickly. Nothing from Pepper yet, but it had only been a couple of hours. He might as well go for a run.

He crept upstairs, changing into running gear and grabbing his phone from the end table. He stopped in his workshop to grab headphones, before closing the front door behind him with a quiet snick.

The world was an entirely new place before five. The streets were quiet, street lights weren’t yet off, but somehow the emptiness seemed full of life. He ran, letting his feet pound the pavement in time with his music. He wasn’t even listening to it, but the steady beat pulsed through him. It helped him keep a rhythm.

He stopped for a moment in a desperate attempt to catch his breath. His vision seemed to be spotting out at the edges and he felt light-headed. He bent over, trying to breathe. He must be really out of shape if he can’t breathe after just a half hour run.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. New email from Pepper. He’d check it when he gets home. It would only be her telling him there’s no way she can get the Accords sorted by then.

Not wanting his heart rate to drop too low, he began running again. The sun was just starting to pierce the sky, playing hide and seek between the buildings. Another hour and then the convenience store near his place would be open and he could pick up some things for breakfast. He’d pick up some fruit and juice for himself, make a smoothie or something, and get Ty some bacon, eggs, and bread.

Make it a quick shop, in and out, head down. With the Avengers on TV there was always more of a risk he’d be recognised. He just wanted to fade from memory, like a bad dream that can't follow into the daylight.

He was in and out of the store fast. The kid at the register looked barely awake enough to talk, let alone recognise Tony, so that was a plus. He grabbed what he needed and was home before Ty had woken up. Half an hour before Ty’s alarm, so Tony jumped in the shower, quickly rinsing off. By the time he was out, Ty was up and mostly awake.

“Morning, gorgeous.”

“Morning, Tony,” Ty smiled tiredly back at him, “you’re in a good mood.”

“Yeah, been for a run and managed to find your favourite muffins in the store. Figured you could take one to work with you.”

“Awww, are you going to start packing me a lunch?”

Tony grinned, “I might. Anyway, I better start cooking.”

Tony headed downstairs, setting a pan on the stove, adding oil, and turning the gas on low to warm the oil slowly. Ty taught him it made for better fried eggs if the oil was already hot.

He grabbed his laptop off the coffee table, setting it on the counter. Opening it, he checked his emails. Strange. Nothing. No emails from Pepper. No emails from anyone. Again. Like the account had been wiped clean.

“Hey Jarvis,” Tony asked quietly as he heard Ty turn on the shower upstairs, “what happened to my emails?”

“I can see that your emails were deleted off your account at approximately 05:37am-”

“I was out running then.”

“I am aware sir, however, there have been no suspicious log ins, nor any other device used to access your account.”

“Did anyone access the device here?”

“Unfortunately, due to Massachusetts two-party consent laws around audio recordings, I have been unable to record any CCTV as Mr Tiberius Stone has not yet been made aware of the existence of CCTV within this household.”

“Riiiight, still need to introduce the two of you. Remind me to do that later.”

“Of course sir, when would you like me to remind you?”

“Hmm, not today, maybe on Ty’s next day off. He’s got a lot going on.”

“Very well, sir.”

“Oooh, do I hear annoyance in your voice? Is someone getting bored? Can you run through the Accords, double check all my referencing, indexes, grammar, and spelling for me? Highlight any issues found. Once you’ve done that, can you check through the pardon agreement? I know it’s going ahead, but I want to know about any loopholes Ross might use.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Thanks Jarvis, but keep quiet in front of Ty for now.”

Just in time too, as Ty began dragging himself downstairs. Tony offered him a mug of tea, and began sorting his breakfast. He had the radio on quietly in the background, the gentle sound of classical music playing. Bacon sizzled happily, the greasy smell permeating the house. Food was plated up. Ty liberally spread butter over his toast and began munching it all. Just the thought of all that fat and grease made Tony feel sick. He couldn’t figure out how Ty looked so good while Tony was just fat fat fat.

“Aren’t you going to have breakfast?” Ty asked through his mouthful, “aren’t you hungry?”

Weirdly, Tony wasn’t. Maybe when he first started cutting down what he ate, he had hunger pangs, but now he didn’t. It was so much easier to deal with. And when he did feel hungry, usually all he needed was a cup of coffee to keep going.

“Nah, I’m going to have a smoothie after you leave. It’s too early to get the blender going.”

Ty nodded, pushing his empty plate towards Tony to wash up. As he stood, his eyes landed on the coffee table. He walked over, picking something up in his hand. Tony turned to face the sink, washing up pans when he heard a slam behind him. Tony flinched, jumping round to look at Ty.

“What. The Fuck. Is This?” Ty demanded.

He had slammed the clamshell phone down on the counter, looking furiously at Tony.

“Why do you have two phones?”

“That’s one Steve gave me-”

“So you’re cheating on me!”

“What,” Tony tried to back-pedal, “of course not. Captain America gave it to me, so if the world is about to end I could text him and let him know.”

“So you have a phone exclusively for your ex?! Explain to me how that isn’t weird.”

Tony couldn’t summon the words. His jaw was flapping but no sounds came out.

“Go on!” Ty challenged, “try and explain to me how this isn’t cheating!”

Tony couldn’t. It was weird. He’d never even thought about it. It was just a phone he never used. Junk in a drawer most days. But having a direct line to his ex. Having that ex message him about things that the phone wasn’t meant to be used for. He had no reason. He had no excuse.

“I swear to you, I never messaged Steve. You can look through the messages if you want, I never messaged him. And…” Tony paused, taking a deep breath, “and I’ll get rid of the phone. You’re right, it looks so weird that I have that phone. I’ll get rid of it.”

Ty nodded, handing the phone over to Tony.

Tony walked into his workshop. But he couldn’t bring himself to destroy it. Chitauri were _going_ to come back at some point. He could feel it. Something was going to happen. And - even if he didn’t want to admit it - he would need Steve if they did.

So sleight of hand and a prototype that never became much of anything, he brought down a hammer onto his workbench, splintering the prototype into shards of plastic and metal fragments. He handed Ty a pile of broken _phone_ parts, Ty letting them spill out of his cupped hands.

“Let me see your other phone.”

“I don’t even have his number in that phone.”

“Then there shouldn’t be a problem in showing it to me.”

Ty was right, why was he protesting. There really shouldn’t be a problem in showing the phone. It’s not like he had anything to hide. Tony handed over his phone.

There was a few minutes of silence as Ty scrolled. Tony chewed on his thumbnail. Sure, it was all innocent, but what if Ty felt uncomfortable about him messaging Rhodey or T’Challa about Accords stuff.

But then Ty handed back the phone. “Thanks - I appreciate this Tony. You know you don’t need him, you’ve got me. So you shouldn’t keep thinking about him and how he stabbed you in the back. I’m all you need now.”

“I know you are.” Tony pressed a kiss to Ty’s lips. “And I really love you.”

And he prayed the phone he dropped behind his desk wouldn’t make a sound until Ty was long out the house.

“Well, I have to get to work.” Ty smiled, guileless. “See you later.”

Tony could feel guilt twisting around his throat. “Yeah, of course, see you later.”

The moment Ty left, Tony raced to grab the phone from under the desk. He turned it off and quickly opened the safe containing his only remaining Iron Man suit. He shoved the phone inside the helmet and locked the safe again.

“Jarvis…”

“Yes sir.”

“Never allow anyone but me to open this safe. And if Ty asks, I destroyed the phone Steve gave me.”

“Of course sir.”

God, he was the worst. He’d lied straight to Ty’s face. And he was asking Jarvis to lie too.

He needed to be better than that. He wanted to be better than that.

Opening up recipe books, he poured over ever page. He planned out meals, healthy and delicious for Ty to enjoy.

He’d make sure Ty came home to a clean house too. And he’d make sure to exercise so that he could look better for Ty. And get all his work done before Ty came home.

Busy busy busy.

June 7th 2017 – 7:49am

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **18**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Tame Garden 
    * Go to Home Depot and pick up the gardening tools
  * Restock First Aid Kit
  * Finish the Accords (RUNNING OUT OF TIME)
  * Introduce Jarvis to Ty
  * Figure out why his emails keep disappearing
  * Message Pepper about what her email said
  * Sort out a backup server for his emails
  * ~~Hide the phone~~ (Phone does not leave the suit no matter what)
  * Cook Ty his favourite dinner
  * Clean entire house



Food Eaten:

  * Cups of coffee x8 (black, no sugar)
  * Mixed berry smoothie (made with water, not juice)




	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick TW for this chapter - this is the start of physical domestic violence, it's not too explicit or too violent, but this is the start of it.

#  ****Chapter 16**** ** **\- Bad Days (Can Only Get Worse)****

June 10th 2017 – 6:00pm

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **18**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Tame Garden 
    * Go to Home Depot and pick up the gardening tools
  * Restock First Aid Kit
  * ********Finish the Accords (RUNNING OUT OF TIME)****
  * Introduce Jarvis to Ty
  * Figure out why his emails keep disappearing
  * Message Pepper about what her email said
  * Sort out a backup server for his emails
  * ~~Cook Ty his favourite dinner~~ ~~~~
  * ~~Clean entire house~~ ~~~~



It was a bad day. Everything was against him. The WiFi went down mid-call to T’Challa, his phone wouldn’t connect when they tried that instead. The bathroom sink leaked but Tony couldn’t find a cause for a solid hour and by that point he’d had to spend most of that hour mopping. When he went shopping, they were sold out of bread and milk - how does a store even sell out of bread and milk? And on his walk back home it poured down with rain. Raindrops struck to his eye lashes and ran down the back of his neck, because of course he didn’t have an umbrella or jacket. It was meant to be clear skies all day.

Everything was against him today.

So when he shut the door against the rain, leaning against it as his dripped in the hallway, he wasn’t surprised to find that the freezer wasn’t closed properly and water was spilling across the kitchen.

He checked over the food and enough was salvageable. Only a bag of peas would need to be used up but Tony could make pea and mint soup so that was dinner tonight.

Just one of those days.

Better grab the mop again.

The soup was made, and gently simmering on the stove when Ty got home. Ty poked his head into the kitchen.

“Hey honey, had a gross day, gonna shower quick and then we can have dinner, watch a movie.”

Tony hummed as he stirred the soup, “sounds like a plan.”

The shower was running and Tony switched on the news. Same one stuff. Blah blah blah, celebrities. Blah, blah, blah, Avengers. Although an announcement caught his attention.

“And now our special feature: We have the first official live interview with the soon to be pardoned Avengers.”

The interviewer looked ready to explode; excited as if this was his first big scoop. Tony knew this interview was happening sometime soon; knowing and watching were different things.

“So, how does it feel knowing you’ll be home soon?”

The screen switched to a shot of all the Avengers sat in row. The footage was blurry, clearly some terrible satellite connection. They were sat in those weird folding chairs that always reminded Tony of the clichéd director chairs. He wouldn’t be surprised if their names were all embroidered on the back. Steve was sat in the middle of the group, back poker straight as always. Natasha was on his right, one leg crossed over the other, hands delicately resting in her lap and a careful smile on her face. She almost looked smug if she wasn’t mixing it with a healthy dose of apologetic. There was something so catalogued about all of her expressions. She might as well pick them out from a Rolodex. Clint was next to Natasha, and could not give off more of an opposite vibe, slouching and looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. A swift kick at his ankles from Natasha’s pointy toed boots forced him to sit up and plaster the fakest smile Tony had ever seen on his face. Sam Wilson sat at Steve’s right. He was gripping at the arms of the chair and his leg was bouncing up and down. Nervous, maybe. Ross told him Wilson had been trying to duck this interview. Tony should ask him for tips on that. Or maybe not, since it was clear he hadn’t succeeded in his planned truancy. Wanda was tucked at the end of the group. Keeping her head down, she let her hair fall in front of her face.

It was good to see them again.

From a decent distance.

Clint spoke up, silly and saccharine smile still in place, “We’re so excited,” he gushed, “coming back to a country with people who-”

“Welcome us back so openly,” Natasha cut him off, that smile still frozen in place. “We couldn’t be happier to be going home.”

Clint glared at her, looking like he just bit into a lemon. Natasha gave another swift kick to Clint without breaking eye contact with the camera. Tony was pretty sure Clint’s shins would be bruised by the end of this. Natasha had a way of looking like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth while she planned swift retribution. And she was giving that look to Clint.

“And Captain America, what are the plans for the continuance of the Avengers Initiative?”

Steve’s jaw clenched. Tony was sure he would have been able to see the vein pop out his temple if the video had been better quality.

“Discussions surrounding the Accords are in their early stages but are ongoing. Once a new version of the Accords is agreed upon, we’re hoping to continue with the Avengers.”

Smart. Diplomatic. Tone was a little terse but still better than Clint. His answer was a bit vague, but better to keep it that way. Not that Steve actually knew anything about the Accords yet - T’Challa wouldn’t have told him, and Ross agreed not to as well - so hopefully the Avengers were still in the dark over his involvement.

“ _We’re_ working hard to ensure things move in a _positive_ direction,” Clint smiled pointedly at the camera.

Ouch. He knew who that was aimed at. Clint clearly still felt that there was a knife in his back with Tony’s fingerprints all over it. But Tony was trying to fix things. Clint didn’t have to know. He didn’t want the recognition for it. That’s not why he did anything. Tony stirred the soup on the stove, turning his back on the TV.

“And Miss Maximoff, what are your plans when you move to the US?”

Tony glanced over his shoulder. Wanda was tugging at her hair. Tony had never realised how young she looked. How young she was. She was twisting her hair around and around, messing it up.

“Uh, I… I plan on studying at university. It’s been recommended to help me use my…” she paused, glancing at Clint who, for the first time so far, smiled genuinely at her. Encouraged, she continued, “I’ll be studying to help me use my powers more effectively.”

The interview smiled kindly at her, “and what will you be studying?”

“Medicine,” Wanda released her hair, hand coming up to her mouth to bite her fingernails. She set them quickly in her lap, “and psychology.”

She seemed excited about the prospect of university. So at least Tony had been right about that much. Only time would tell for the rest of it.

“That sounds brilliant, it seems you’ll be a valuable asset to the team. We wish you the best with your studies.”

Wanda nodded, “thank you.” She smiled quietly to herself, ducking her head back down.

The interviewer sat up a little straighter now. He was clearly coming up to the big question. The main one. Why he wanted this interview in the first place.

“And what can you tell us about the alleged disappearance of Mr Stark?”

Natasha smiled evenly as everyone else glanced at each other. “Come again?” She said softly.

“It’s been reported that Tony Stark has disappeared. While Stark Industries claim that they are still receiving updates from Mr Stark, no one has verified his whereabouts to either the public or the press. His public talks and performances have been cancelled and he has not been seen in his social circles. The truth is Tony Stark has not been sighted in over two months-”

Tony almost laughed. It hadn’t been that long. Sure he’d cancelled his talks back in April and May, and maybe he hadn’t really gone out all that much in March as well… Huh, maybe it had been that long. But he’d only moved recently.

“-and the last time he was out of the public eye for this length of time was when he was held captive in Afghanistan-”

Oh come on. He wasn’t that much of an attention whore. He didn’t want the attention most of the time. He wanted to be able to go to Burger King without people taking photos and tabloids telling him he was getting a dad-bod.

“-so, as some of the people closest to him, what can you tell us about his disappearance?”

Tony could feel the discomfort from here. Even Clint looked uncomfortable. Sam finally stopped bouncing his leg, shifting a little in his seat to look at Steve. Nataasha was looking at him too. Must be hard, having everyone turn to you for an answer you don’t have. Wanda stared at the floor and Clint sunk lower into his seat. It wouldn’t take a psychologist to explain that they were all clearly uncomfortable with the question. But the interviewer seemed to be staring Steve down, expectantly leaning forward for his awaited soundbite. Steve tried to smile, but it didn’t meet his eyes.

“Due to the nature of our current exile, we have been unable to maintain contact with our friends and family in the US. We have been unable to maintain a relationship with Mr Stark - both in a personal and professional capacity - due to this. We hope to hear from him on our return to the US.”

Clint scoffed, and Sam seemed to roll his eyes, but both went unnoticed by the interviewer, who seemed to keep Steve locked in his gaze.

“That’s such a shame that this exile has caused the loss of such a close relationship-”

Tony snorted with laughter. _Sure,_ it was _distance_ that caused them to fall apart. No mention of the lies, the betrayal, the stubbornness, the weakness, the idiocy, the cowardice, and everything else that led them to crumble: ashes to ashes and dust to dust.

“-if you could all say one thing to the people waiting for you in the States, what would you say?”

Natasha offered Clint a swift kick, forcing him to sit up again, “I’d want tell my family how much I miss and love them.”

Natasha offered hers next, “Most of the people I know are here, so I’m just happy I get to surround myself with such caring individuals.”

“I’d rather tell them in person,” Sam laughed, smiling easily.

He nudged Steve with his elbow, but Wanda spoke first, “This will be my first time in the US, I just wish I could share it with my family. But I’m grateful for the friend who is waiting for me.”

Everyone turned to Steve.

“I… I’d want to… Actually, I think it’s best I tell them. I just hope I am given the chance to.”

“Well, who wouldn’t want to give Captain America a chance, right?”

Steve remained quiet.

The shower turned off upstairs. Ty was done upstairs, and Tony had had enough. He turned off the TV and began pouring soup into bowls. He was setting the table, when Ty flopped into the seat.

“Water.”

Tony poured him a glass from the jug on the table, “So… what happened with work? Want to talk about it?”

“God no. And you wouldn’t want to hear about it, trust me.”

Tony nodded, bringing the soup over from the counter.

“What is this?”

Tony smiled, “pea and mint soup, found a recipe online.”

“No I mean, what the _fuck_ is this?”

Venom. Dripping. He didn’t feel the burns, not at first. It was the dripping, he realised. Green splashed up his leg and across his arm. His arm brought up to shield his face. Green was dripping down him, like tar searing itself into the ground. The floor was covered in green soup.

“I spend all day at work, while you’re pissing about at home. I come home to fucking _soup_ for dinner! What the fuck!”

That’s when he felt the burns. They weren’t so bad. It was the soup down his leg and up his arm. Barely hurt. The bowl was in pieces on the floor. It wasn’t too bad, he’d just need to run them under cold water. Run his leg under cold water. The bowl was broken. The bowl was ruined.

Screaming. No, spitting venom. Words were being fired out of that mouth that he loved to kiss. Scathing, furious.

Lazy. He was lazy. Arrogant. He’d been called that by enough people. Selfish. Yeah, yeah he was. He hadn’t even thought of what Ty would want.

He was up in Tony’s space. Gripping tightly on his forearms. Shaking him and screaming. Screaming in his face. Flecks of spit hit him, but he couldn’t wipe it away. Ty was holding his arms. And then he wasn’t.

There was a moment which seemed to stretch on for hours. Both of them just standing there looking at each other after Ty had shoved Tony back into the counter. They both seemed stunned why what had just happened.

It happened too fast to really register. And they registered it too slowly to do anything about it.

He was shoved backward. And he slammed into the kitchen counter, back of his head bouncing off the cupboard door.

And then Ty was in his space again. Hands gentle now; his touch was careful. Saying words that lived in the neighbourhood to an apology.

“You just made me so mad, I didn’t mean to.”

Of course Ty didn’t mean to. Who would purposely shove someone like that?

“Are you okay? Did it hurt?”

Tony shrugged. He’d had worse. He tried to hide his wince as he shifted; Ty already looked like he felt bad enough.

“I just lost control. You know what it’s like to lose control.”

He did. He’d told Ty all about how his loss of control almost- Well, Ty’s slp wasn’t nearly as bad as Tony’s. Ty didn’t have a billion dollar weapon he could wear.

“I’m just stressed, I had a bad day at work.”

Tony had had bad days before. He had snapped at people when he was stressed. That’s all this was.

Tony nodded, “it’s okay, are you okay?”

Ty smiled and nodded.

“Okay,” Tony took a deep breath. He… he wasn’t sure what he felt right now. It was almost like his body was a puppet but he wasn’t the puppeteer. “I’m going to clean this up, and then take a shower. Do you want to order take out? Sorry I didn’t make a decent dinner, you probably wanted something more filling. Take out?” Tony asked again.

“Sounds great,” Ty kissed him softly, “I wish you didn’t make me so mad.”

“Sorry,” Tony dropped his gaze to the bowl. It was the one that he was going to have, with the dark green rim. The colour always reminded him of the ivy that used to grow around the front door of his parents’ mansion. Ty’s bowl was steaming merrily on the table, with a sunflower yellow rim. “There’s still soup if you want it as a starter. More on the stove. Order whatever you like though, I’m not really hungry.”

Ty sat back down and began spooning soup into his mouth, “hmm, this is really good.”

“Thanks,” Tony said, kneeling down with a damp dishcloth. Ty liked the soup. That was good. “Do you want to pick the movie tonight?”

It had taken a few minutes to get the soup cleaned up. By then, cold water wouldn’t really help the burns on his leg. But they were minor. A few spots down his shin. A patch on his arm. Nothing much. The soup hadn’t been that hot, really. He stripped out of his clothes and stepped into the shower. The water was like ice.

“Jay?” Tony called out quietly.

“Yes sir,” Jarvis replied at equal volume.

“Can you up the temperature?”

“I’m afraid it’s already at the maximum recommended for your burns sir.”

“Oh.”

He felt… not cold. But he was shaking. And the puppeteer had wandered off with the control of his body.

“Sir, are you okay?”

“Of course, Jarvis. Why wouldn’t I be?”

If a computer could sound confused, Jarvis would, “Your heart rate is elevated. I was not able to view what happened as Ty was in the room with you, but you appear to have a developing sub-dermal haematoma on your lower back between vertebrae L3 and L5.”

Tony twisted as much around as he could, trying to view his back. Huh, would you look at that, Jarvis was right. He had a thick dark mark spreading across his lower back. It was reddish now, but he could already see the blues creeping in.

“Jarvis, what’s the worst injury I’ve ever had?”

“That has been catalogued? While you have died, technically this wasn’t due to injury but instead by the vacuum of space. The greatest singular injury caused by a person would be the incident with your arm, from Miss Maximoff dropping vehicles on you. The greatest collection of injuries caused by a group of people was the incident in Siberia. The greatest injury caused by an inanimate object was the incident in Afghanistan with the bomb.”

Jarvis continued listing off the Tony’s compilation of pain, so really, a kitchen counter wasn’t that bad.

June 10th 2017 – 7:12pm

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **18**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Tame Garden 
    * Go to Home Depot and pick up the gardening tools
  * Restock First Aid Kit
  * ********Finish the Accords (RUNNING OUT OF TIME)****
  * Introduce Jarvis to Ty
  * Figure out why his emails keep disappearing
  * Message Pepper about what her email said
  * Sort out a backup server for his emails



Food Eaten:

  * Cups of coffee x4 (black, no sugar)
  * Chicken Salad Sandwich
  * Apple




	17. Chapter 17

#  ****Chapter 17 - Pardons and Intrusions** **

June 13th 2017 – 8:24pm

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **16**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Tame Garden 
    * Go to Home Depot and pick up the gardening tools
  * Restock First Aid Kit
  * ********Finish the Accords (Almost done - T’Challa to check over, should be done tomorrow)****
  * Introduce Jarvis to Ty
  * Figure out why his emails keep disappearing (Jarvis running Troubleshooting, waiting of results)
  * Message Pepper about what her email said
  * Sort out a backup server for his emails



So many things kept falling to the wayside. He didn’t know why. He’d been meaning to sort out the garden for ages, but it just kept falling to the bottom of the list. And he still needed to email Pepper. He was certain she’d tell him he was ridiculous asking for the Avengers to all be brought back to the US by tomorrow. Impossible really. Which was great, because then he wouldn’t have to see them.

It was also… not so great. He wanted them to come back. He just… didn’t want to see them. No, he didn’t want them to see him. He felt like he was waiting in a cell, he’d had his last meal, and was sat waiting for his long walk to come. And he wasn’t ready for that final moment to happen just yet. So he didn’t want to be seen.

But anyway, things kept piling up. And he couldn’t figure out why. Or how. He had a constant running to do list in his head but he only seemed to be adding to it lately, never taking away. There was always something new.

He could hear Ty in the kitchen, whisking pancake batter.

“Jay?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Would now be a good time to introduce you to Ty?”

“I believe so, sir. It is Mr Stone’s day off, and he appears to be of a positive disposition presently.”

Tony nodded and moved into the kitchen, grabbing his laptop.

The whole kitchen was a mess. There was flour on the floor, and eggshells on the counter. Ty was the one who had always preached at Tony to clean as you go; this mess was anything but gone. With a sigh, Tony grabbed a dustpan and brush and swept up as much of the flour as he could. He’d have to vacuum later.

“Ty, can I speak to you about something?”

“Can it wait a second?” Ty asked, flipping a pancake, “need to keep an eye on the food.”

Tony hummed in agreement. “Sure, I’ll be back in a sec then, just need to pee.”

He set his laptop on the counter and went upstairs.

“Why am I so nervous about this?” Tony asked his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

The reflection didn’t reply.

“It’s not like he’s meeting my parents.”

The reflection seemed to snigger at the thought that came unbidden. _It’s not like that’s something anyone who dates me has to worry about._

“Wow, um, okay. That was dark.” Tony braced himself against the sink, staring blankly at the faucet. “It’s just Jarvis. This is not a big deal.”

 _You have no one else to introduce to your dates,_ his reflection sneered at him. _He’s met all the friends you have and that was a disaster._

“I just need to get this over with.”

He splashed water on his face, quickly drying off with a towel, before heading back downstairs.

Ty was sat at the kitchen island, idly eating forkfuls of pancakes as he messed with the mouse on the laptop. _Tony’s laptop._

“Ty,” Tony started hesitantly, “Why are you on my laptop?”

“Jeez, relax,” Ty quickly closed the window he was checking, “I just wanted to check my emails.” He opened up Amazon and began browsing.

“Ty, I have confidential documents on there, you can’t just use my laptop without asking.”

Ty rolled his eyes, sighing as he pushed Tony’s laptop towards him. His tone took a moment for Tony to place. It was the same tone his teachers used to use towards his classmates when they were doing something… well, idiotic.

“I understand that you have sensitive information Tony. Honestly, you treat me like an idiot sometimes-”

“Ty, I never-”

“You have to trust me Tony, I would never do anything to hurt you.”

“I know but-”

Ty cut him off again, “You act like I’m out to get you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a bad persecution complex.”

Tony pulled the laptop towards him, opening it up and opening his emails. Except, there weren’t any. Again.

“Have you used my laptop before?” Tony asked, flicking between folders.

Ty rolled his eyes again, “Why does it matter?”

“Because my emails keep disappearing.”

Ty shrugged, “I use it to check my emails when I need to.”

“Ty, you need to _ask_ first. This is such a- such a violation of privacy.”

Ty stood up, opening the fridge to grab a beer, “You’re making such a big deal of this.”

“Ty, I’m really not, I never go through your things.”

“You’re making it sound like you’ve got something to hide.”

“Of course not, but I have confidential documents on-”

“I can’t talk to you when you get like this Tony. You need to calm down. And then we can talk, because it isn’t acceptable for you to be mad at me right now. We promised no secrets between us.”

Tony took a deep breath. They did make that promise. Ty was right. He was just checking emails. Tony’s emails disappearing could have been an accident. Or a coincidence. Tony took another breath. Okay, calm, he could do this calmly.

“Sorry, I overreacted. But in future, could you please ask me before using my laptop? Or any of my devices? I can’t have certain information leaking so I am very particular over who is using what.”

Ty sipped his beer. “We said no secrets,” was his only reply.

“I know.”

“So you have something to hide?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Then why can’t I use your laptop whenever I need to. Either you’ve got something to hide from me, or you don’t trust me to keep your secrets? So…”

“Ty, it’s not-”

“Which is it?”

“It’s neither, Ty. I just want to have some boundaries.”

“You’re overreacting again. All I want to do is check my emails. Why are you making that so difficult?!”

“I’m sorry.”

“So I can use your laptop?”

Tony nodded, “yeah, yeah I guess it should be fine.”

There was a brief pause - an eye to the storm they found themselves in. Deep breath, might as well rip the band-aid off now while Ty was still kind of mad.

“There’s one more thing.”

Ty set his beer on the counter, crossing his arms over his chest expectantly. “What is it?”

“Jarvis?”

“Yes sir.”

Ty jumped, knocking the bottle off the counter. Tony caught it quickly, setting it back next to Ty’s hand.

“What the fuck was that?”

“That’s Jarvis. He’s my AI.”

“Ooo-kay,” Ty said, holding that first syllable for a hair too long.

“Like an electronic personal assistant. You ever want to call me, Jay can do it. Or email or text me.”

“What about if you go missing?”

“Huh?”

“I don’t trust those Avengers. You’ll be working with them again soon. What if I just want to check where you are and make sure you’re where you’re meant to be? Can he do that?”

Tony frowned, “Jay, did I program that in?”

“Yes sir, would you like to share your location with Mr Stone?”

“So polite,” Ty smiled, “yeah, share it with me.”

Tony grinned - this was going better than he hoped - “yeah Jay, share my location with Ty.”

“Of course sir. Mr Stone, I also run the house’s CCTV. Could you please confirm that you are aware that CCTV is present in this house, with both audio and visual capabilities?”

“Yeah, sure. So what else can it do?”

It was just before midnight when his phone rang. Rhodey’s name lit up the caller ID. Tony answered in a heartbeat.

“Platypus, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Hey Tones, Pepper and I haven’t heard back from you so I wanted to check if you were coming?”

“Coming? Where am I meant to be going?”

Silence. Tony could have sworn he heard crickets chirp down the end of the line.

“To the… pardon,” Rhodey said slowly, like he couldn’t believe he was having to explain this.

“I told Pepper I was only free tomorrow.”

“We know… That’s why it was arranged for tomorrow.”

Tony paused, pencil slipping from his grip. It landed on his notebook.

Sitting up straighter, Tony said, “wait… it’s tomorrow. Like tomorrow tomorrow?”

“Yeah, It production crew gets there in less than 12 hours. We emailed you about this. Several times.”

Tony frowned, “my emails keep disappearing.” He pulled the phone away from his ear, “Jay, can we set up saving emails to an external server? What ones are available?”

“Currently the only servers available are located at the compound.”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. Why there? Why was it always there? “Go ahead Jay, but encrypt everything. I don’t want anyone to read it, unless they have my decryption key. Remind me to ask you to move it back here when I get a server set up.”

“Of course sir. Would you like me to back up any other files which appear to be of significant evidentiary or documentative purposes?”

“Thanks Jay, that’d be great. Only allow myself and anyone of my Gold list to access.”

“Of course sir, only allowing access to yourself, Mr Rhodes, Ms Potts and Captain-”

“Nope, strike Steve off the gold. Move all Avengers off all lists. All access codes revoked.”

“Tony, isn’t that a bit much?” Rhodey piped up, “you could leave them on the white list?”

“Completed, Sir.”

“No it’s not too much, I don’t want them accessing any of this.” He picked up his pencil, tapping it frenetically against his notebook. “They can’t know.”

“Would it be the worst thing if they knew?”

“They won’t sign it if it’s from me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“They wouldn’t sign the first set because I wanted to. I have to play this carefully.”

“Okay,” Rhodey sighed, “Okay, but at least when they’re back, can you… could you at least hear them out?”

Tony blinked, “you want me to hear out the people who got you paralysed, dropped cars on me, killed my parents, and quite literally tried to stab me in the heart with a blunt edged metal frisbee?”

“Yep,” Rhodey replied cheerily.

“Not going to happen.”

“-because if you weren’t going to hear them out,” Rhodey continued as if Tony hadn’t said a word, “why do you want them back?”

“I don’t want them back. The US needs them back. I don’t. I have Ty now. I don’t need whatever I thought I had with any of them.”

“Will you at least come tomorrow? You said you were free.”

“I’ll…”

“Promise me you’ll come.”

“Okay… I promise.”

June 14th 2017 – 00:12am

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **16**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Tame Garden 
    * Go to Home Depot and pick up the gardening tools
  * Restock First Aid Kit
  * ********Finish the Accords (Almost done - T’Challa to check over, should be done tomorrow)****
  * ~~Introduce Jarvis to Ty~~ ~~~~
  * ~~Figure out why his emails keep disappearing (Jarvis running Troubleshooting, waiting of results)~~ ~~~~
  * ~~Message Pepper about what her email said~~ ~~~~
  * ~~Sort out a backup server for his emails~~ ~~~~
  * Attend the Pardoning
  * Set up private server at home 
    * Move documents off server in compound



Food Eaten:

  * …




	18. Chapter 18

#  ****Chapter 18 - Best Seats in the House** **

June 14th 2017 – 10:46am

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **16**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Tame Garden 
    * Go to Home Depot and pick up the gardening tools
  * Restock First Aid Kit
  * ********Finish the Accords (Almost done - T’Challa to check over, should be done tomorrow)****
  * Attend the Pardoning
  * Set up private server at home 
    * Move documents off server in compound



He shouldn’t be here. He told Ty he wasn’t going. Hell, he called Pepper earlier to tell her he wasn’t going. Made up some personal emergency. Any excuse. But here he was anyway. Backstage, hidden by curtains and shadows. Apparently his dark jeans and hoodie made him look enough like a stage hand that he was roped in to help. He was the sound guy, which was easy enough to fake. A harried looking woman had dragged him into place, sticking him in front of the sound board. No one gave him a second glance as he made sure all the settings were correct, and ran a quick test on the mics. The harried looking woman walked - although that was too slow of a verb, she was a pace short of running - past again, talking into a headset.

“ETA, 20 minutes, is camera one ready? What do you mean no! Camera 2? Oh thank god.” She stalked up to Tony, “We’re having trouble with the lights, I know you’re sound, Jude, but for the life of me, I cannot find Arnie anywhere. Could you take a look?”

Tony nodded quickly, the woman giving him a relieved grin.

“You’re a life-saver! Ladder to the rafters is next to the catering table, you know where that is?”

Tony nodded again. He was certain that if he said a word, this woman would place him in a more public role, like sorting out the stage or something. And he knew the catering table, he’d pinched a bottle of water as he walked past earlier.

“Katie,” an exasperated man ran up to her, “Camera one is still having trouble, it’s not taking audio. Have you seen Patrick?”

The woman - Katie - glanced down at the clipboard in her hands, flipping a page over, “if he’s on schedule and in position, he should be mic-ing up the guests. I’ll check for him in the green room and send him to you at camera one.”

That was Tony’s cue to high-tail it into the rafters. Didn’t want to be around when the guests of honour came out. He clambered into the rafters and began sorting through the wires and realigning the lights.

The stage below him was sparse. Chairs rested near the back. Six of them were on the right hand side, and three stood solemn on the left. A stage hand darted onto the stage, picking up one of the three and carrying it off the stage, yelling into his headset as he did.

“Well, he hasn’t checked in yet, I don’t know why the Colonel is so convinced he’d be here.”

That chair was probably meant to be his. He preferred his seat up high. The other seats must be for Rhodey and Ross. But only six seats for the Avengers. Rogers, Barnes, Romanoff, Barton, Maximoff, Wilson, and Lang. One of them wasn’t going to be on camera.

Steve would have to be. Barton would be made to by Natasha. Wilson and Barnes would stick to Steve like glue. So either Wanda or Scott would be skipping.

Tony aimed the lights at the stage, lining them up with the chairs and podium.

Katie popped her head over the ladder, “Hey Jude, Patrick’s finished with the guests so he can do sound but Arnie’s called in sick. Can you manage the lights from up here?”

Tony nodded again. He didn’t know who the hell Jude was, but he could manage a few lights.

“You’re missing a headset, here,” she tossed him one which he caught deftly with one hand, “keep it on. We might need you downstairs after the show to help Jackie with editing - General Ross wants a segment ready for the news tonight.”

Seriously, who the hell was Jude?! This guy seemed to know about everything. Tony didn’t know shit about editing. But he nodded along with Katie until she headed back to ground level.

This was going to be an interesting day.

Still sat in the rafters, Tony watched as Rhodey and Pepper walked back and forth across the stage.

“Rhodey, I think you need to face it - he’s not coming.”

“He said he’d be here,” Rhodey argued, determined look in his eyes.

Pepper sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, “he says a lot of things, Rhodey. But do you really think he’d come when Steve’s here. I don’t blame him for wanting to stay away from them. And as far as they know, he has nothing to do with the pardon and from what he’s said he wants to keep it that way. He’s not coming. I’m not even meant to be here - he doesn’t want anything with his name on it connected to this. So if anyone asks, I’m your moral support.”

“You’re my moral support,” Rhodey responded distractedly. He continued to look round. It was like he was expecting Tony to pop out of a cake and yell ‘surprise’.

Sharply, Tony whistled. Both Pepper and Rhodey spun on the spot until Tony waved. Rhodey grinned up at him and waved back. Pepper shook her head in fond exasperation.

“You didn’t sign in. And you shaved!”

“I’m not myself today - apparently I’m Jude.”

Rhodey began to move, looking ready to exit stage left. But Pepper stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“Stay here, you haven’t got long until the press come in.” She looked pointedly up at Tony, “stay there. I’ll be up in a moment.”

And she was up in a moment, walking the catwalk barefoot as she clutched her heels in hand. Her hair was in a loose ponytail, and her face free from make-up. She looked him over, a quick up and down as she always did when she hadn’t seen him in a while.

It was like Ty’s voice came unbidden to his mind. _See, she thinks your fat. Why else would she look at you like that?_

“Since you aren’t going on camera, wanna watch with me?” Tony offered a hand to steady her as she walked, “I have the best seats in the house.”

Pepper sat next to him, letting her legs dangle over the edge. She rested her head on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“That night. With Ty. I just worry about you.”

 _She must really think you’re pathetic._ Ty had told him that before, that Pepper constantly babies him.

Tony frowned, “I’m a big boy, I can handle myself.”

“I know,” Pepper agreed quickly, “but let’s face it, you’ve got something of a bad record.”

_She thinks you’ve got awful judgement. That you can’t make decisions for yourself._

“I have no idea what you-”

“Killian, Obie, Vanko-”

“Yeah, but I never _dated_ those guys.”

“Then how about Everhart, Maya Hansen… and what about Steve?”

_It’s always about Steve with you. STEVE, STEVE, STEVE!_

Tony swallowed, “what about Steve?”

“Tony, I’ve known you for years. I know when you like someone. And you like Steve.”

_See, even Pepper thinks you’d cheat on me with Steve. I’m not wrong to be worried._

“Liked. Past tense. I want nothing to do with Steve.”

“And yet, here you are.”

_See, she’s jealous. Told you she was. She keeps trying to come between us. She’d rather you be alone and unhappy than see you happy with someone else. You don’t need her, you’ve got me._

“I promised Rhodey I’d come.”

“Mhmm, but you could have waited in his dressing room.”

_She always questions you. Doubts you. She doesn’t trust you._

“What do I have to say to get you to believe me? I’m over Steve,” Tony leaned forward and rested his chin on the metal railing, “Ty isn’t some rebound. We fell in love. And sure it was fast, but it’s not like I ever do anything by half measures. And we’re happy.”

_She still looks doubtful. Nothing you ever do is enough._

“Okay.” Pepper checked her phone. “The show will be starting soon. How did you wind up with the best seats in the house?”

Tony sat alone in the end, watching the stage below. Pepper needed to leave to help organise things. But it was thanks to her hard work that the show seemed to go on without incident. First Ross came out, spent 30 minutes making some blustering speech which was all for show. Tony felt like he was going to sleep. Glancing between Ross and Rhodey - who was sat poker straight in his chair behind Ross - Tony scanned the room. The press were behaving so far, allowing room for the cameras and the officials. Legalities were handled, papers signed, hands shaken. Things continued smoothly. Eventually the Avengers walked out on stage. First Steve, dressed up as Captain America. He looked odd. Like something was missing. It took Tony a while to place what was lacking. His hand was free. His shield.

When Tony had come back from Siberia, he hadn’t even been able to look at it. He used to hate Steve; he was always compared to him by everyone: his dad, Nick Fury, the other Avengers. He could never measure up. Now, it’s not hate he felt. Instead, his heart had jumped into his throat and his hands went clammy at the sight of him. That wasn’t hatred. So he’d tucked away the shield into Steve’s room in the compound, there for him when he came back. They must not have managed to go to the compound before this.

Maybe they weren’t coming back.

He’d never thought about it. He just assumed they’d go back to the compound. But maybe they’d rather hotels until the Accords are sorted. He should have offered.

It took a moment to for Tony to realise the others had followed after Steve. Wilson at his side, Natasha next to him, then Clint, Wanda, and finally Scott, trailing behind like he felt like an afterthought.

He’d guessed wrong. Barnes was the missing person today. Well today and for maybe the past 70 years (on and off). He probably didn’t want to be in front of the cameras. Made sense.

They talked, shook hands, signed papers, shook hands again. It was all very mundane. He didn’t know what he was expecting but it certainly wasn’t this. He thought there would be more fanfare; a parade through the streets, a national holiday declared, or at least some streamers and balloons. Anything to celebrate them.

But instead, most of the Avengers had polite, strained smiles. Pepper should have given them coaching on handling the press. That might actually be a good thing to add into the Accords. He could run a master class on it, if he wasn’t retiring.

Clint seemed to be scanning the crowd for someone. Scott was waving at a little girl sat near the front, mouthing something at her. Must be his family, Tony had mentioned to Pepper about getting family flown out to see them all. Must’ve been difficult for Scott, being separated from them. Wanda was trying to hide behind her hair, just like she had been doing in the interviews. Wilson was staring at Rhodey’s leg braces any time he moved, but also trying hard to not stare. It seemed only Natasha wouldn’t be in _Handling the Press 101._

Steve was signing another set of papers - they must have killed at least three trees for all this paperwork - when just for a second, he glanced up into the rafters. And for a moment, Tony was sure he’d been seen. Steve’s eyes locked onto his. But that couldn’t be. Tony was sat behind a stage light and to Steve he’d only appear as a shadow. The light would be too bright. Steve didn’t see him.

But he better leave before they finished.

He ducked into the green room briefly. It was a plain sort of room - clearly put together in a rush. A couple of sofas, a few folding chairs, and a small table with cannisters full of coffee and water. Trying to find a scrap of paper, Tony searched the room. Wanting to write a quick message for Rhodey and Pepper, he felt sure he’d find something. That _maybe_ Steve still read physical copies of the newspaper. T’Challa and Shuri had probably broken that habit between them. But he checked under the couch for any receipt that had been kicked under. Nothing.

As he stood, he felt the blood rush down, his heartbeat pounding in his throat as his vision spotted. He leaned against the arm of the couch for a moment, dropping his head between his knees as he tried to get his vision to clear.

Just a little light-headed.

Still bent over, he felt a hand softly touch his elbow. Almost as though to hold him up. The touch was uncertain, cautious, so unsure of itself that Tony could feel the tremor in their fingers before contact was even made. But Tony sat up and the world froze over.

He was certain it was the world that froze. It had to be. Because his lungs couldn’t freeze, and his heart wasn’t rime, but he had turned to ice all the same.

He hadn’t changed. He was still the same man Tony had seen in his Dad’s old pictures. Still the same as when they fought in a frozen bunker. His hair was long. It seemed to have grown even more in the year since they’d last met. It hung limply, somehow always a little greasy, like he never let anyone touch it. He had a beard too, thicker than the stubble he’d last seen. His clothes seemed better kept than his hair. A black zip up sweater, and dark grey jeans. Nothing fancy. It was almost the same as what Tony himself was wearing. He was so different from a year ago. He was exactly the same as a year ago. Cold winds seemed to surround them as they froze in their snowdrift, froze in this moment. He looked confused - his brow furrowed, mouth twisted, body pulled taut. Barnes looked ready to run. But there was no recognition in his eyes. He didn’t know it was Tony he was seeing.

He didn’t think he’d ever looked Barnes in the eyes before. Even before he knew everything. But now, their eyes met and Tony couldn’t escape them; a searchlight foiling his attempt to make a break from his prison. They were slate blue, gunmetal grey, and… sad.

Tony didn’t know what possessed him. It was like someone had come down just to help him look like an idiot. But when the words slipped out, his own accent had been replaced with a British accent.

“Mate, I’m fine. Just came in to grab a coffee.”

Barnes tentatively withdrew his hand, still hovering nearby as Tony stood up and made his way to the coffee. Pouring himself a cup, he added sugar just to be on the safe side. Didn’t want to pass out on the drive home.

He downed his coffee, setting the paper cup on the side.

“Alright mate, great meeting ya but I’m going to head off.”

He turned for the door and almost made it, when he felt that tentative grasp back again. This time it had circled around his wrist. He paused for a moment, trying not to shudder under his touch.

His heart was pounding in his chest, like it was trying to break free of its rib cage and run back home to Ty. He shouldn’t have come. Ty was right. These people were dangerous.

But Barnes let go almost immediately again. But this time, when Tony forced himself to meet Barnes’ eyes, there was a look of… almost. It was a look of almost something.

Not wanting to wait to find out what, Tony ran as soon as he could.

June 14th 2017 – 3:52pm

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **16**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** **** ** _ **dammit, still the same as yesterday**_** ~~~~
  * Tame Garden 
    * Go to Home Depot and pick up the gardening tools
  * Restock First Aid Kit
  * ********Finish the Accords (Almost done - T’Challa to check over, should done in the next week)****
  * ~~Attend the Pardoning~~ ~~~~
  * Set up private server at home 
    * Move documents off server in compound ~~~~



Food Eaten:

  * Cups of Coffee x2 (1x black, no sugar, 1x black, with 1x sugar)
  * Fruit Salad
  * Shortbread (2 pieces, calorie content unknown)




	19. Chapter 19

#  ****Chapter 19 - Expected and Required** **

June 18th 2017 – 1:12pm

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **15**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Tame Garden 
    * Go to Home Depot and pick up the gardening tools
  * Restock First Aid Kit
  * ********Finish the Accords (Almost done - T’Challa to check over, should be done in the next week)****
  * Set up private server at home 
    * Move documents off server in compound



Biting his nails, Tony read and reread the email. Ty was standing over his shoulder, making sympathetic noises as he read too.

**_Re: The Avengers Initiative Accords Open Discussion_ **

_Mr Stark,_

_To answer your query, you are expected and required, as the Avengers Liaison appointed by the State, to attend the open table discussion surrounding the amendments to be made to the Sokovia Accords in accordance with the continuance of the Avengers Initiative. Standard working practices apply in accordance with Federal guidelines, as will State laws. You will be required to remain as liaison until a new version of the Accords are signed. Please find further details outlining your responsibilities enclosed._

_Failure to fulfil this role and its associated responsibilities will be considered an act of treason by the United States Government._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_General Thaddeus Ross, Secretary of State_

_(Avengers_Liaison_Profile.docx 262KB)_

That was it then. Final nail in the coffin. He was doing this. He had to. Ty rubbed his shoulders and kissed his temple, using one hand to sweep the hair off his face. But none of it helped. From the moment he opened the email, it felt like someone was wrapping more and more elastic bands around his lungs: squeezing him and compressing him until he would be condensed into nothing at all.

“You could just…” Ty trailed off.

There was no ‘could just’. He had to do this.

“They’re going to kill you.”

Tony nodded, rereading the email for the twelfth time. They probably would.

“I’m serious, what do they want you to do? You’re up against the elite. And it’s not like you could defend yourself against them-”

“I didn’t do terribly last time.”

“There were two of them, and you had a weapon you could wear. This time there’s six of them, and you’ll only have, what, a hoodie to protect you. They’re going to kill you!”

Tony nodded again, letting his head rest in his hands. There had been some part of him that had wished for Ross to be making an empty threat; surely Ross knew that he was the worst person to be the liaison. There had to be someone else. Fury would have been a better fit. Or Romanoff herself, since she agreed with the Accords initially. There had to be someone else who wasn’t him.

“Not only that, but do you really expect them to take you seriously? You’ll be standing next to Olympic-level athletes. A five year old would have more sway over them; at least a five year old is kinda cute.”

Tony scoffed, “I hope this isn’t your way of telling me you want to start a family.”

“Definitely not,” Ty chuckled, “we’d be awful parents. I work odd hours because of work and you’re… well, you’re you.”

That was always the problem. The inescapable, unchangeable, blinding searchlight of truth. He was who he was. That’s why he couldn’t do this.

But he double-clicked on the document attached, and began reading.

After all, he had to do this.

_Job Title: Avengers Initiative Liaison_

_Reporting to: Secretary of State_

_Responsibilities:_

  * _Maintain up-to-date records of all Avengers contact details, including but not limited to addresses, phone numbers, email addresses, and social media accounts._
  * _Maintain up-to-date records details all Avengers powers, fighting capabilities, risk assessments, and causes for concern that may affect their performance._
  * _Ensure that all records surrounding the Avengers are inaccessible by anyone but the Avengers Liaison._
  * _Draw up a draft document of the New Sokovia Accords to be presented before Congress._
  * _Should the document be failed to pass through Congress, a new draft of the Accords will be drawn up in accordance with any feedback from both Congress and the Avengers._
  * _Retain all old drafts of the Accords until a final version is signed by all parties involved._
  * _Feedback any causes of concern relating to the Avengers Initiative._
  * _Maintain a line of communication between the Avengers and the Secretary of State._



It almost sounded fine. Almost. These were all things he could do from a distance. A glorified administrative assistant. Until he read the last three bullet points.

  * _Participate in open discussion of the Accords_
  * _Regulate and mediate the discussions of the Accords with the Avengers_
  * _Maintain a working relationship with_ _all __Avengers_



Surely, they couldn’t put that in the job description. There had to be laws about forcing someone to maintain a relationship with them. He voiced these concerns to Ty.

“No, there’s not. It falls under anti-bullying policies in the workplace.”

Tony let out a groan and let his head fall onto the desk with a bang.

“You’re fucked.”

“I know.”

He had so much to do. His to-do list just kept building. He needed to make sure the compound was suitable for everything. He had a remodel planned but had never acted on it. He thought he had more time. He always thought that. You’d think that several near death experiences would teach him life was short, but it was a lesson he was too stubborn to learn. And now he was suffering for it.

“I need to call Pepper.”

Ty scowled, “why? What’s she got to do with this?”

“The compound is where the Avengers are meant to be staying, and I have no idea if it’s fit for purpose for all this.”

“You know she doesn’t want to hear from you.”

“Yeah, but-”

“I just don’t want to see her hurt you again.”

“But Ty, I need to get this done. If I don’t I will have committed treason.”

“You’re over-exaggerating again.”

“It literally says it right here,” Tony jabbed the screen bluntly, “see, treason.”

“It doesn’t say call your ex or you’ll be arrested. Can’t you arrange all this yourself?”

“I mean, sure, but-”

“Then why don’t you? Why do you need to get your ex involved? You know what she’s like, she could sabotage you out of jealousy.”

“Ty, I’ll-” But one look at Ty’s face and Tony swallowed his remark. It didn’t matter what he promised, or how he vouched for Pepper. Maybe he shouldn’t be dragging Pepper into this mess - he was so used to being able to rely on her, but that had to stop eventually. “I’ll sort it. But I’ll need to head to the compound for a couple of days to get everything in order there. Maybe a week.”

“Fine,” Ty sighed, a reluctant compromise. “But I want you to call me while you’re there.”

“I can have you on speaker phone the whole time if you like.”

Ty laughed, “I might just take you up on that.”

He unearthed his plans for the remodel, finding them from some archived emails he and Pepper had been bouncing back and forth months ago. More than months. Nearly a whole year.

It was hard to pin down what he was feeling. He felt nauseous, like his stomach was turning itself inside out. His heart felt aflutter in an off-beat rhythm beneath his shirt. His hands were cold, fingers numb. But his ears felt warm, almost clammy. But all of it was awash with this undercurrent of anxiety. His anxiety was reiterating Ty’s words:

_They’re going to kill you._

He… he couldn’t even try to convince himself that Ty was wrong. There was basis to believe those words. He still woke up from nightmares of shields and snow and metal hands trying to rip out his heart whenever Ty was working a night shift. He never dreamed when Ty was next to him. Sometimes he’d wake up, and sometimes he’d not sleep, but he never dreamed any more. He liked that. He wanted to keep that feeling around.

“Jarvis, can you print this one?” Tony called out, opening a file for the living quarters of the compound.

His printer whirred into life next to him as he began going through documents, room by room. He printed each and every one. He scored through certain design elements with a harsh stroke of his pencil. Each room was just slightly wrong now.

Like Steve’s and James’ room. He had thought they’d sleep in the same room. But maybe Barnes would want some space. Even if he didn’t sleep there. So he’d need to change one of the extra rooms into Barnes’ room. But they should still be near enough to each other, otherwise it would be weird. His pencil hovered over a room. It was down the hallway from Steve’s, two doors down and on the other side of the hallway. Separated by the elevator and staircase. Tony crossed out the notes he’d made and wrote Barnes’ name down. He didn’t need a room at the compound; Barnes might as well have his room next to Steve. The room was secure enough - or at least they should be. He could discuss that more with Natasha, but for now the windows were bullet, missile, and God-proof (in both senses). Weapons caches were built into all rooms. And as much as possible, each room was tailored to each occupant.

He’d given Clint the room with the highest ceilings - it was more like a maisonette than a single room. He had access to the air vents from both levels. And a coffee maker on both levels - Clint was the only person to drink coffee as often as Tony did. A bookshelf against the back wall also acted as a secret door, leading straight downstairs to the hallway, a short walk from the gym, swimming pool, training rooms and shooting range. Should keep him busy when he’s at the compound. Though, he’d probably want to stay with Laura eventually.

Down the hall from Clint was Natasha’s room, one of the few rooms he didn’t need to set up. The walls were cream, the bed sheets were dark red, and a gun was strapped under the mattress on both sides of the bed. And behind the dresser. Her jewellery box was full of bracelets that changed into garotting wire or tazers or poison darts. Whatever she might need. The walk in wardrobe was something of a coup de maître. Ranging from plain clothes to ball gowns, Tony had made sure to buy anything he thought Natasha might need: comfort, disguises, formal events, standard assassin work. It should all be in her wardrobe. Behind the vanity table was a false panel, giving way to collections of prosthetics and photostatic veils. She could be whoever she wanted to be.

Wanda’s room was subject to the most redesigns. At the end of it all, he still knew so little about her. But he made sure she had a desk to work at for her studies, and bookshelves for all the textbooks he’d ordered for her. Nothing special but it wasn’t a sterile hotel-style room at least. She could decorate it more if she moved in.

Sam’s and Scott’s rooms were largely the same. Like Wanda, he didn’t really know enough about them to add anything unique to them. Scott had a few engineering journals and Sam had a decent sound system - things T’Challa had mentioned them both enjoying. But there wasn’t much else he could do.

Then there was Steve’s room. Tony hadn’t… he hadn’t managed to bring himself to do much to this room. It was much the same. Only now, there was a shield laying on the bed, slowing gaining a thin layer of dust as more and more time passed. The bed was still in the middle of the room, end tables either side with bedside lamps resting on top. It seemed so proper. Nothing Tony could come up with seemed right. Too imperfect. Just wrong.

He crossed out the changes he’d written next to Steve’s room. Instead he scribbled on a different page. He cut his workshop in half, giving the space over to a team workshop. Somewhere Peter could tinker, or Scott could work, or… somewhere Steve could do maintenance on his bike.

His hand stilled over the workshop space. He crossed out his half too. Moved it closer to the server room. It wasn’t in the living quarters any more, but he didn’t live there anyway. This was closer to his office now - just a floor down through the emergency stairwell right by his office door. And closer to the garage - easier when he needed to get back home. Easier to leave. Keep his suit in there. It would be fine. He’d need to completely remodel the room, sort out plumbing, and he had less than half the space he used to have, but it’s not like he’d be needing it.

He wouldn’t be living there, he reminded himself. He wouldn’t be welcome there.

It wasn’t his home any more.

_Was it ever your home?_

He had Malibu still if he needed space. And, as much as he hated it, he had his parents’ place. Middle of New York, right by Central Park. He had other places to go. If he ever needed it. Not that he needed to. He could hear Ty move about upstairs, the bed springs creaking as Ty climbed under the covers. Tony sighed. He should go to bed soon too.

He fed the pages into his scanner, asking Jay to send them over to Rhodey as a back-up until he could set up the server at the compound.

“Can you send them to the contractors? Get as much of the work started as possible? We need this done in like a week.” Tony scrubbed a hand down his face, feeling the stress resist his attempts to relax.

Not enough time.

Story of his life.

June 18th 2017 – 11:45pm

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **15**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Tame Garden 
    * Go to Home Depot and pick up the gardening tools
  * Restock First Aid Kit
  * ********Finish the Accords (Almost done - T’Challa to check over, should be done in the next week)****
  * Set up private server at home 
    * Move documents off server in compound
  * Redesign Avengers Living Quarters 
    * Ensure building works are completed by the 30thJune



Food Eaten:

  * Smoothie (Kale, Banana, Spinach, Raspberry, Orange Juice)
  * Cups of Coffee x6 (6x black, no sugar)
  * Half a chicken salad sandwich (no mayo)




	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major Trigger Warning on this one: Rape and/or Sexual Assault, emotional abuse, gaslighting
> 
> While I have tried not to be explicit in the actions, it is still very obvious what is happening.
> 
> I recommend skipping this chapter if this is something that could trigger you.

#  ****Chapter 20**** ** **\- Redoing the Bathroom****

June 24th 2017 – 6:35pm

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **15**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Tame Garden 
    * Go to Home Depot and pick up the gardening tools
  * Restock First Aid Kit
  * ********Finish the Accords (Almost done - minor edits from T’Challa’s notes - 6 DAYS LEFT)****
  * Set up private server at home 
    * Move documents off server in compound
  * ********Redesign Avengers Living Quarters****
    * ********Ensure building works are completed by the 30**** ** **th**** ** **June****



Slamming heavily, the front door closed with a bang. Ty was home from work and clearly hadn’t had a good day.

“Hey honey,” Ty called from the hallway, voice hoarse and tired, “I brought some food, I was thinking I cook something tonight. Save you the trouble of cooking for me. I got Indian.” He poked his head into the workshop, “sound good?”

Tony hummed in agreement, closing his laptop and spinning his chair, “sounds great, can I help?”

Ty shook his head with a smile. “No but I do like your company. Come out of your cave for a bit?”

Tony laughed, “I’ll be right out.”

By the time Tony finished up, Ty was already cooking up a storm. Tony slid in beside him. Picking up a cloth, he wiped down the counters and swept the vegetable peels into the trash. He quickly pressed a kiss to Ty’s cheek, before opening a drawer to grab the cutlery.

“Are we eating at the table or the island?” Tony asked.

Ty’s jacket and gun were haphazard on the island, but his paperwork and phone were neatly placed on the table.

“We?” Ty’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

Tony frowned, “well, yeah.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Ty, seriously, what?”

“Well,” Ty looked like the words were being dragged from his lips, “Well, I just thought this might be too fattening for you. You’ve been watching what you eat and this is heavy on carbs.”

“Oh, right,” Tony shook his head like an etch a sketch, trying to erase the thought, “thanks for watching out for me. So, do you want to eat at the island or table?”

“Table.”

Tony quickly cleared away the paperwork, setting out the cutlery, a glass, and a jug of water. Ty plated up his meal and sat down, gesturing for Tony to join him at the table. Tony poured himself a coffee before sitting at the table. He didn’t bother tucking his legs under, instead facing the TV Ty had turned on. All the news ever talked about now was the Avengers. Whether it was paparazzi shots of the group together or official statements, they never seemed to run out of stuff to talk about.

“Bet you don’t miss that,” Ty commented, turning to look at a video clip of the Avengers walking through a crowd, microphones shoved in their faces as cameras flashed in their eyes.

“Not even slightly,” and he surprised himself with the truth in that statement. He didn’t miss it. The fame, the attention, the notoriety - none of it appealed. Tony had to smirk, a little schadenfreude at seeing Clint’s deer in the headlights look as he was interrogated by a reporter. Steve was sailing through, constantly repeating ‘no comment’. He took it all in his stride; a natural. Natasha and Wanda walked right behind him, letting him part the sea of serpents trying to sink their fangs in. “Wanna watch something else?”

Ty flicked over to some overplayed sitcom, and they let it play in the background.

Arms wrapped around his waist as he washed the dishes. He had a dishwasher, but when it was just a couple of dishes that needed cleaning, he hand washed them. Ty nuzzled against his ear. Slowly, he began to kiss down Tony’s neck. Ticklish, Tony laughed at the sensation.

“Ty, stop it, I need to wash the dishes.”

Ty’s hands travelled up Tony’s chest, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. Tony pushed his hand away.

“Ty, seriously.”

“Don’t be such a prude,” Ty muttered against his skin, moving across to Tony’s jaw.

Tony pulled away, stepping back from the sink, “Ty, come on. Not tonight.”

Ty stepped into Tony’s space, cornering him against the counters. Tony ducked under Ty’s arm and moved into the living room. He picked up Ty’s glass from the table, setting it on the counter. Ty sat down on the couch, glaring at Tony.

“Look, it’s not you. I’m just not in the mood tonight.”

“You? Not in the mood? _Please,”_ Ty scoffed, _“_ When are you ever _not_ in the mood?”

“Ty, it isn’t you,” Tony pleaded. He couldn’t handle Ty in one of his moods, “I’m just under a lot of stress, I’ve got a lot to do in the next few days.”

“As if I don’t.”

“Sorry,” Tony apologised quickly, “I know you’re stressed too.” Tony sat next to him on the couch, taking his hand. “Your job is a lot to manage, and you never bring your work home with you. I don’t know how you do it. But I’m not as strong as you. I need to focus on the Accords, just for tonight.”

It happened quickly. Tony didn’t register the weight at first. Ty was straddling him, and his hands were working to unbuckle Tony's belt and undo his fly. Pulling Ty’s hand away, he kept hold of it, lacing their fingers together. He wasn’t willing to let go. Wasn’t willing to risk it. Touch wasn’t a comfort tonight.

“Ty, I don’t want to. _Not tonight_.”

He prayed Ty would move. He couldn’t shove him, couldn’t try to make him get off. Too much time fighting in battles made him a bit too… reactionary. He didn’t want to risk it.

Ty climbed off Tony, something glinting behind his eyes.

Tony was off the couch and began heading upstairs. It was a moment before he felt Ty at his back again. A hand on the back of his neck, the small of his back. Guiding him, helping him, pushing him up the stairs.

“ _Ty._ ”

“Tony,” and something was off. Tony was sure Ty was trying to be sexy, sultry, but somehow, somehow, somehow, he just sounded angry. His name said short, sharp: a paper-cut sting to it.

Tony was pushed into the bedroom, shoved onto the bed. Pinning him down, Ty took both Tony’s wrists in one hand, his other hand tracing patterns across Tony’s throat.

“If you really loved me, you would.”

Ty had a stressful day. That’s all this was. Relationships were give and take. That’s _all_ this was. Ty was just stressed. And he gave Tony so much, he kept him on the straight and narrow. He gave and gave. This was _just_ stress. Ty needed an outlet. The fingers on his throat circled, tightening. Tony’s voice broke and faded away before he had a chance to use it. He couldn’t yell. He couldn’t even tell Ty to stop.

“If you loved me…”

He wanted to scream. Shove Ty off. But Ty clearly saw something in his eyes.

“Do you want to end up alone?”

Tony tipped his head up, trying to allow himself room to breathe, trying to free his throat. He shook his head. Alone, he didn’t want to be alone again. And who else would have him? Ty was one in seven and a half billion. He’d never find someone like Ty.

“Do you love me, Tony?”

Tony nodded, eyes watering as he closed them.

And Ty pressed their lips together.

Tony stared at the wall. There were so many blemishes. He should repaint his bedroom. There were patches where the paint was fading.

He ignored the breathing on the back of his neck.

It was fine.

The wall really needed repainting. Maybe the sun had caused the paint to fade. He should look into getting paint resistant to the sun. Or replace the curtains - maybe get some blinds too. If he’s redecorating, he should redo the bathroom and kitchen too. Make everything look perfect.

Perfect.

Somehow, Ty’s gun had moved upstairs. It was lying on the end table. All Ty needed to do was reach for it. He probably moved it for safety. Keep it in his sight.

Nails dug into his hips, pushing into his skin. Scratches and spots of red skittering down his legs.

When he redoes the bathroom, he’ll paint it blue. Red would be too dark. A nice bright blue. Or maybe something more neutral. He wanted it to look clean. Blue drains the light from the room.

He yelped in pain. His eyes watered, spilling down his cheeks.

“Fucking Pussy, call yourself a hero, can’t even take a c-”

Cream. Maybe he’d paint it cream. But then all his rooms would be cream. Or he could tile the walls. Wipe down clean. No blemishes. Pristine. Perfect. He could fit a bath. He wasn’t a massive fan of bathing, but sometimes it was nice to have a soak after a long workout. Adding salts to the bath to help his muscles stop aching. He preferred showers. Quick and clean.

In and out. In and out.

What design should he go for with the tiles? Maybe white, but with some blue in there too, so it’s bright but calming. He’d seen some lovely tiles last time he was at Home Depot. He and Ty should go look at them over the weekend.

A hand around his throat, squeezing slightly. Only slightly.

His breaths coming in gasps. Only slightly.

Slightly was fine.

What was he thinking about? The bathroom. He could also redo the bedroom. Or refurbish the attic, make it into a living space instead of just storage. He’d keep some of the storage though.

“You fucking love this you slut.”

But he didn’t know what he’d do with all the stuff up there. The last occupants of this house had left some of their stuff up there too and Tony hadn’t sorted it out yet. He should do that now.

His wrists were pinned to the bed.

Well, not _now._ But soon. As soon as he could. He didn’t even know what the previous owners left. But Tony had chucked his band tees up there until he could remember to find a clothes drive or a charity shop that would take them.

The hand tightened.

He could always sell them on eBay.

He couldn’t breathe.

He still needed to tame the garden. He’d even been to Home Depot and bought the tools. They were just sitting around his workshop, still in their packaging. He could do that next weekend. Maybe they could have a barbeque once he’d tidied up. Ty could invite his cop friends. Tony could invite Pepper and Rhodey.

His hair was being tugged back, head pulled back.

Maybe it was best not to. He could see them another time.

Thinking about it, he probably had tools in his workshop that he could use to fix the fence; one of the slats had looked loose. Home Depot seemed like a good idea - weekend trip to Home Depot with the boyfriend.

“Clean up. You’re disgusting.”

His skin felt sticky. Cold. Clammy. Ty was finished.

He couldn’t breathe.

He stood in the bathroom. Nothing was clean, he needed to clean everything. He showered, scrubbed at his skin until it couldn’t take the heat and the soap any more. He wiped down the walls, the shower, the sink. Bleached the toilet and cleaned the floor.

He could hear Ty snoring in bed.

Nothing was clean. Ty knew it. He wasn’t clean.

The urge happened so quickly, he didn’t have time to think. On his knees, leaning over the toilet.

He threw up.

Clean.

It was like he’d purged himself of… of everything. Like that knot in his stomach had loosened, just a little. Like the hand on his throat had relaxed, just a little.

He kept heaving, shoulders shaking with the effort, hands clasped in a white knuckle grasp on the bowl.

Even once there was nothing left, he stayed there. He tried to get everything out of him.

Tears streamed down his face. Dark purple indents were left on his fingers as he shoved them further into his mouth.

His throat burned. His lungs ached. His heart clenched.

But he could breathe.

June 25th 2017 – 4:01am

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **11**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Tame Garden 
    * Go to Home Depot and pick up the gardening tools
  * Restock First Aid Kit
  * ********Finish the Accords (Almost done - minor edits from T’Challa’s notes - 6 DAYS LEFT)****
  * Set up private server at home 
    * Move documents off server in compound
  * ********Redesign Avengers Living Quarters****
    * ********Ensure building works are completed by the 30**** ** **th**** ** **June****



Food Eaten:

  * Stir-fry (thrown up)
  * Cups of Coffee x6 (6x black, no sugar - thrown up)




	21. Chapter 21

#  ****Chapter 21 - God Never Gives** **

June 25th 2017 – 4:02am

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **11**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Tame Garden 
    * Go to Home Depot and pick up the gardening tools
  * Restock First Aid Kit
  * ********Finish the Accords (Almost done - minor edits from T’Challa’s notes - 5 DAYS LEFT)****
  * Set up private server at home 
    * Move documents off server in compound
  * ********Redesign Avengers Living Quarters****
    * ********Ensure building works are completed by the 30**** ** **th**** ** **June****



He dabbed at the blues circling his neck. A quick Google had showed that arnica gel helped and he managed to find some in the back of the medicine cabinet. Breathing made his throat throb.

Ty was asleep in bed, arms wrapped around a pillow. He looked like he was hugging it, head squished into the cushion. He was smiling in his sleep. He looked sweet.

Tony’s stomach cramped, rolling as if he was caught in a storm. He went downstairs and started the coffee machine. The beans were ground loudly in the early morning silence. Water boiled. It felt so peaceful.

He willed his mind to feel peaceful.

Please.

Calm. Safe. Nothing bad was going to happen.

The coffee pot beeped loudly at him. He shook his head. The coffee pot just beeped; it wasn’t at him, it was just a beeping. He shook his head again. He was okay.

It hurt to breathe.

He was okay.

He just couldn’t sleep.

The coffee sat on the kitchen table, slowly going cold. Yesterday’s newspaper was folded next to it. A car magazine that Ty brought home for him was sat on the coffee table. And Tony was stood in the middle of the room. He didn’t know what to do with himself. Every time he sat down, he felt like he was going to explode out of his skin. Every time he paced, he was worried the noise would wake Ty. He couldn’t stay. He couldn’t leave. Everything he tried to do was wrong. He couldn’t breathe.

He didn’t know how long he’d been sat outside when he finally came back to himself. The morning air had felt cool and clean, like it was clearing the smoke from his lungs with every breath. But he’d been sat outside for what must have been a while. The cold air had crept under his skin and chilled him in his bones. He felt numb. Pleasantly. He moved back into the kitchen. The clock on the oven read 06:03, blinking at him in neon red. He’d have to start making Ty’s breakfast soon. He’d want breakfast as soon as he was up and showered.

He pulled out a mixing bowl, cracked a few eggs and began whisking up eggs ready to scramble. Pulled out the butter to soften. Got everything set up and ready.

Then there was nothing.

He just stood there. He didn’t know what to do with himself. He wanted to keep busy, do something with his hands. So he cooked breakfast. It was too early, the food would go to waste. But he cooked. And again. And again. Omelettes, bacon, scrambled eggs, toast, pancakes. Made everything look perfect. Plated everything up, positioned just right: maple syrup drizzled just so, square of butter set in the middle of the pancakes and melting into the toast. Snap a photo, then the food was scraped into the trash. The smell of it was making him feel sick.

Peter had always mentioned getting an Instagram. Why not document his cooking? Show he was improving. He created an account: fake email, fake user name, fake bio. Just somewhere he could archive the pictures. Just for him, not for anyone else.

So _The_Crepuscular _Cook_ was created on Instagram. He ignored the suggested location tags, didn’t add any captions, and just let the picture sit there on his screen. Then he began making Ty his breakfast once he heard the shower turn on upstairs.

Ty was sat opposite him, sipping on coffee and perusing yesterday’s newspaper. Sat there like… like last night that Tony was so desperate to pretend hadn’t happened hadn’t _actually_ happened. Tony swallowed against the bruising on his throat.

“Ty… about last night…”

Ty grinned over the paper, “oh, yeah, that was fun.”

“Uh…” Tony glanced down at the mug of lemon and ginger tea he was drinking. “I… I didn’t…”

“We should do it again - you were definitely enjoying yourself,” Ty laughed, and he grinned brighter than Tony had seen in weeks.

“Ty, sorry but I didn’t…”

 _“I didn’t want that,”_ he tried to say. But the words wouldn’t come.

“Oh you don’t need to apologise,” Ty wouldn’t stop smiling. It was like he didn’t know that Tony’s heart was gripped in his fist. “I had a good time.”

“I didn’t want that.”

Tony’s chair clattered behind him, landing with a bang as it fell from where Tony had pushed away from the table, away from Ty. He pressed down on the table, flat palms to keep himself steady.

He didn’t want that. He didn’t want last night.

He kept his gaze on the table for a moment. And a moment passed and Ty still hadn’t said anything. When he looked up, Ty was smiling kindly at him. He reached his hand across the table, fingers curling over Tony’s.

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t want that. Last night. Any of it.”

Ty tilted his head. Confused. Ty was confused by his words. “But Tony, you asked for it. You said yes.”

“I-”

“You said you loved me. You were enjoying yourself.”

“Ty, I-”

“What are you trying to say, Tony? That I raped you?”

The words died in his throat. Was he saying that?

Ty tutted, shaking his head as if he had just caught a toddler drawing on the walls, “Tony, Tony, Tony, don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t rape you. You consented. And also, men don’t get raped - or sexually assaulted for that matter - I’m a cop, I’d know. It’s always women that come to the station. Never men. Because men can just fight off their attacker. If you really didn’t want it, why wouldn’t you stop me? You could have stopped me easily.”

“Ty-”

“I think you’re just tired. You’re getting your nightmares and reality mixed again. I can’t believe the Avengers did this to you. It’s so unfair that they’ve messed you up to this extent.”

And there was so much… forgiveness in Ty’s tone. Had… had he really just been accusing Ty of… And Ty was just willing to forgive him. He was always so understanding. Of the nightmares. Of the PTSD. Of all the times when he worked the night shift and answered Tony’s texts at 2am when he couldn’t sleep.

And he’d almost accused Ty of doing the unspeakable.

“You’re broken. But that’s okay. I’m not going to leave you, Tony, no matter how much you try and push me away. I’m not like the others.”

Tony nodded. His skin felt clammy and something inside was still screaming at him to run. But Ty was right. He had to be. It was just nightmares and bad dreams and manifestations of anxiety. Nothing more. Ty loved him. He loved Ty. Ty was all he needed.

“Sorry.” Tony picked up the chair, “sorry, it… it felt so…”

“I’m sure it did, but I love you. I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

Tony’s hand traced blue marks on his throat. He must have gotten the bruises in his sleep. Or maybe Ty was right and he had been enjoying himself last night and things got carried away.

“I’m sorry, Ty. I really am. I don’t know why I said that.”

“You’re just tired. Maybe you should get some sleep.”

Tony nodded, clearing up the breakfast plates.

“I’ll come wake you at 11. We’re seeing my mother for lunch.”

Disdain curled around the word ‘mother’. And confusion curled around Tony. Ty hadn’t mentioned meeting his mom. Or maybe he did and Tony couldn’t remember. He nodded absently and left Ty in the kitchen as he went to bed.

_He dreamt of hands around his throat. And a shield in his chest. But the attacker was obscured by smoke that Tony kept breathing out._

Ty was good to his word, and woke Tony up at 11am. Tony got dressed and Ty drove him across Boston to a tiny care home on the edge of the city. It looked shabby. The small garden out front was overgrown and the flowerbeds were full of weeds. The parking lot was full of cracked pavement and worn-out lines. The paint on the front door was peeling off. Tony cast a nervous look around. It didn’t much feel like a care home. But Ty opened the front door and gestured for Tony to go in first. Tony signed the guest book for both of them and Ty took Tony’s hand the moment he set the pen down and led him down the hall.

He kept striding until they stopped outside of room 127 on the first floor. It was tucked down the end of the corridor and its distance from the unmanned reception desk gave it an air of having been forgotten. The carpet underfoot seemed to cough up dust with each footfall, the red nylon seeming more pink than the intended burgundy.

Ty didn’t bother knocking. He opened the door and called out.

“Hi mom. I brought Tony.”

“Oh hello dear,” called a soft spoken voice. It was barely more than a whisper, like a soft hum, but it seemed like all the power possible was given to it. “I wasn’t expecting you until later.”

And out came Mrs Stone. Tony blinked as he took in her appearance but smiled. His mom and dad might not have taught him much, but he knew to be polite. Swallow any surprise and make with pleasantries. Ty didn’t ever speak much about his parents. Tony knew Ty’s dad had passed away when he was thirteen. His sister around the same time too. Car accident. But he never really talked about his mom. Only that she was religious, wheel-chair bound, and… well, Ty called her hopeless.

But she was a pretty woman, with a calming smile. Hair clinging to its tawny but with streaks of gray decorating it, falling straight down across her shoulders and down her back. Bright blue eyes that so resembled Ty’s it was uncanny. Thin lips, and lines creasing around her eyes and mouth. Lines that spoke of age and joy. But that was only half the picture. Half the story that Tony had heard.

Ty never mentioned the scars. Dark red marks down the side of her face, disappearing beneath her collar. A circular line around her throat. White lines crossing over her hands, with no discernible pattern. He hadn’t mentioned the brace on her left arm either. Tony was taken aback, just a little. Ty knew about the prosthetics he’d made for Rhodey. He could have helped her mobility. Even just springing for an electric chair instead of using a manual one would help immeasurably. Manual couldn’t be easy on her wrists. Rhodey still had callouses from using his for just a couple of months.

There was something else that seemed unusual. Her make-up was heavy. It seemed caked on, but by a practised hand. Heavier, layered under the eyes. Lighter as it disappeared into her hairline. But her hair seemed carefully placed too. Curled to fall in front of her face, to cover her right eye. The hair looked rigid. He was certain that if he touched it, it would feel crunchy beneath his finger tips. Too much hairspray. Her make-up made her look like one of the old antique dolls his mother used to collect: not a hair out of place and a face of make-up never shifting, like it was tattooed on. You could peel the foundation and powder away from her face.

“You should have been ready,” Ty scolded. “Why are you never ready on time?”

“I’m sorry Ty.” Her apology was fast. She quickly rinsed her hands in the washbasin by her bed and rolled herself closer towards him.

“You could at least introduce yourself to Tony.”

“Sorry, rude of me,” she smiled, moving a wheel to rotate to face him, “I’m Elizabeth Stone, but please call me Betty. It’s a pleasure to meet you - I’ve heard so much about you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Tony offered his right hand to shake, “Anthony, but I’m happy with Tony.”

She shook his hand in a weak grip, letting her hand fall limply when Tony released, grimacing slightly as she pulled her right arm closer. Tony wanted to apologise - he hadn’t realised her pain was so great, but Ty began pushing her out the door.

“We’re going to be late. Move.”

“Oh, but my purse?”

Tony managed to grab it before Ty shut the door to Betty’s room. Tony offered the purse, and was met with a murmured word of thanks. Betty kept her eyes ahead as Ty pushed her down the hall.

The restaurant Ty had chosen was uphill, and he had stopped pushing Betty right at the bottom. He made strides up the hill, yelling over his shoulder at Tony to hurry up without ever really turning around. Tony stayed next to Betty for a moment. The wheels kept slipping in her grasp, losing as much ground as she gained.

“May I?” Tony offered.

“Oh,” her voice was halting and soft, “please. I would appreciate that.”

Tony pushed the back of her chair, carefully not to catch her hair and pushed her up the hill until they join Ty at the door. Ty rolled his eyes at their approach, and held the door open for Tony and Betty.

“’Bout damn time.”

The hostess showed them to their table and quickly took the chair away for Betty. Even as they sat, Betty kept her head down. She played with a small silver crucifix around her neck, twisting it between her thumb and index finger. It was strung around her neck by a long silver chain.

Ty scoffed at the necklace, unfolding the menu without a word.

Tony cleared his throat. The restaurant wasn’t silent by any means, but their table might as well have been in space for how well conversation travelled between them.

“So Betty, urm,” Tony ventured, “that’s a beautiful necklace.”

“Thank you,” she accepted the compliment with hesitation, tucking it into her blouse. “James, Ty’s father, gave it to me before-”

“Before you killed him.”

If Tony thought it was quiet before, this was a black hole. No sound escaped any of them. They sat like that for what felt like eternity. Hard to measure time when existence felt like it was stuck in a void.

“Ty,” Tony reached under the table for his hand, “you said your dad died in a car accident.”

“Mom was driving,” Ty gave as explanation, as terse and short as he could be in a public space, “t-boned by a Semi. You should’ve let dad drive.”

Betty looked down at the place setting, tears welling up in her eyes and clinging to her eyelashes. “Ty, your father had had a few drinks that night.”

“You’re pathetic,” Ty spat back at her. “Dad was fine. He’d driven before with more alcohol than that.”

“Ty, can we not do this here?” Betty’s gaze shifted across the table, in Tony’s direction but never quite looking at him.

Ty huffed a sigh, pushing his chair back from the table, “what, not in front of Tony you mean? He should know how pathetic you are. Can’t believe dad got stuck with you. I don’t want Tony ending up being anything like you.”

He stood up and looked down at Betty. She wouldn’t lift her head. Instead she seemed to shrink under him. Shoulders hunching up, and back curling down. But Ty didn’t say another word. He stalked off towards the back of the restaurant. Waiters and waitresses quickly stepped aside, sending worried looks back at their table.

“I should… I should check on him.” And so Tony followed after.

“She’s honestly unbelievable - even mentioning dad’s name like she’s worth even half of him.”

Tony rested his hand on Ty’s arm, letting Ty spill the words that were overflowing from him.

“Dad wouldn’t have waited at that red light - we would have been through before the Semi came through. But mom insisted on driving. And look where that got my family. No dad, no sister. She can’t do anything.”

There were no words, except the cliché, “I’m sorry.”

“And she goes harping on about God and God’s plan. Bull _shit_. She just tries to absolve herself of guilt with all the religious crap.”

Tony kept quiet.

“I’m going to step out for a bit,” Ty sighed, “cool my head. I wanted this to be a nice meeting for the two of you, but she had to ruin it”

“Are you coming back?” Tony asked, tension rising through his shoulders.

He didn’t dislike Betty but there was something about being left alone in a room full of strangers that left him feeling… feeling like he was about to be jumped.

“Of course,” Ty pressed a quick strong kiss to Tony’s lips, “I’ll always come back for you.”

Ty left and Tony went back to the table. Their waitress had brought over water for the table. Betty was anxiously picking at the menu, catching the corner of the menu with her fingertips, only to let it drop again.

“Sorry, uh… Ty stepped out. He said sorry.”

Betty shook her head, “no, it was my fault.” She seemed to be trying very hard not to shed tears. “It was all my fault. Ty’s right.”

“Can I- do you want a coffee or anything?”

She paused, finally lifting her head enough for Tony to catch a glimpse of her expression. There was something so defeated there. He offered her his handkerchief - an old one he’d originally bought to mock Steve but had kept since.

_It always comes back to Steve, doesn’t it?_

She accepted, surreptitiously wiping her eyes as Tony flagged down the waitress to order coffees.

“So… I know it can’t be easy to talk about, but what… happened that night?” Tony asked, “I just want to understand what Ty was on about.”

“Sorry,” she laughed, awkward and embarrassed, cheeks bright red even under her make-up, “that must have been confusing. And I don’t want to ruin our lunch-”

“It’s not ruined. And I just want to make sure I can be there for Ty.”

She nodded, “Okay,” a deep breath, steeling herself, “Ty was thirteen. We’d all gone out for dinner in the city - we used to live in the suburbs - and James had, he’d had a few drinks. He liked a drink but this time, he’d been… he’d been saying that he’d drive us all into-” she stopped herself, glancing cautiously around the room, “sorry, I shouldn’t say that. He didn’t want me to, he was made to give me the keys so I could drive. I stopped at a light and he started correcting my driving. He wanted to show me how to drive properly so he grabbed the wheel. That’s all he was doing. But then the truck came and…” The tears she had kept so carefully on the edge finally fell. “My beautiful baby girl, I couldn’t help her. I couldn’t move, I-” she brought a shaking hand to her mouth as she tried to pull in a shuddering breath. “It was all my fault, I should have just let James drive, he always drove and- I still see her face.”

Tony took her hand, clasping it in both his own, “It wasn’t your fault.”

Betty shook her head, refusing the words. Refusing them like they didn’t belong to her: foreign and strange sounding, a language never spoken to her before.

“Betty, look at me.”

She met his eyes and he held them there.

“It wasn’t your fault. The truck hit you. Not the other way around. It wasn’t your fault.”

Tears were still spilling over but she took in a shuddering breath. “It was after I got out of hospital that I found God - Ty never… Ty never went to church with me. But in my darkest moments, it was Him who kept me going. I needed to be there for Ty. And I’m so proud of him. He’s grown to be a fine man - he’s just like his father.” She reached up to rub the back of her neck, suddenly flustered and ashamed, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so pathetic, telling you all this.”

Tony shook his head, “No. Not at all. Thank you. For telling me, I mean.”

The waitress set their coffees down quietly and immediately hightailed it away. Tony could see the waitresses around them giving their table looks of apprehension: everyone was praying that this wouldn’t be their table to serve.

Tony sipped his coffee, moving to lean back in his seat. “What was Ty’s sister like?”

“Kitty, she was, oh she was so bright. Smartest girl in her grade-”

Betty seemed to brighten when talking about Kitty. It was like a veil had been lifted off a taboo subject. Her eyes still glittered with tears but this time there was laughter at family anecdotes and smiles at forced-to-be-forgotten memories.

Tony smiled around the rim of his cup. He felt a little bit closer to this family now - one that was almost as messed up as his own. Dysfunction felt oddly familiar in the best and worst ways.

Ty had been gone for the better part of an hour. Tony had to apologise to the waitress for the tenth time, still waiting on a member of their party to return. Each time, he added to the mental tip he was calculating for the poor servers in this place.

But at least he and Betty were getting on. They were discussing Ty. Stories from his childhood, how he wanted to be a cop like his dad. How hard he worked. How happy he made Tony.

“You seem really good for each other.”

“He’s so good to me.”

“You’re perfect together - I’ve never seen him so calm and happy.”

Storming out of a restaurant was happy? Tony would hate to see him mad.

“I mean it - maybe everything in your lives brought you together, to find each other.”

“That’s a nice sentiment.”

She smiled sadly, “you don’t believe He has a plan for you?”

“If He ever did, I’ve ruined it each time.”

She chuckled lightly, “You cannot upset His plan.”

“It’d be nice if He gave me a clue. I feel like I’m at the end of my rope.”

She tutted, a cluck of her tongue in sympathy, “He never gives us more than we can handle. You need to endure the trials the Lord sets out to find paradise.”

“I think I’ve had enough trials.”

“He decides that. And He will guide you. If you let Him into your heart.”

Tony nodded, not wanting to argue the point. Her religion had carried her. And honestly, Tony was more than a little envious - he could use some of that faith.

“You’ll see soon enough. You can handle His trials. He wouldn’t make you endure for nothing. Whatever you’re going through, it will make you stronger. That is what my Pastor taught me.”

Ty returned late. They ordered their food to go, Tony paid for the coffees - he pressed the tip into the waitresses hands with his apologies. They looked grateful to have the table back. They returned Betty to the home, and soon Ty and Tony were sat in the car together. Ty picked up Tony’s hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles, not taking his eyes off the rode as he drove them home.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be gone so long.”

“That’s okay - I understand.”

“I understand if you want to break up.”

“What?!” Tony exclaimed, “why would I want that?”

Ty shrugged, dropping Tony’s hand for a second to use the blinker before picking it up and holding it close.

“Ty, I don’t want that. I love you. You’re stuck with me, buddy.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

“Is that a promise?”

“You bet your ass it is.”

“I’ll always come for you.”

“And I’ll always be waiting for you to come get me.”

June 25th 2017 – 4:44pm

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **11**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Tame Garden 
    * Go to Home Depot and pick up the gardening tools
  * Restock First Aid Kit
  * ********Finish the Accords (Almost done - minor edits from T’Challa’s notes - 5 DAYS LEFT)****
  * Set up private server at home 
    * Move documents off server in compound
  * ********Redesign Avengers Living Quarters****
    * ********Ensure building works are completed by the 30**** ** **th**** ** **June (somehow)****



Food Eaten:

  * Lemon and Ginger Tea x1 (no sugar)
  * Takeaway Pasta (except…he might have put that in the freezer, he had a bit of it though so it counts)
  * Cups of Coffee x3 (3x black, no sugar)




	22. Chapter 22

#  ****Chapter 22 - Baptism by Fire** **

July 1st 2017 – 08:36am

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **11**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Tame Garden 
    * Go to Home Depot and pick up the gardening tools
  * Restock First Aid Kit
  * ********Finish the Accords (Changes made - only finished once Avengers approve)****
  * Set up private server at home 
    * Move documents off server in compound
  * ******~~**Redesign Avengers Living Quarters**~~** ~~~~
    * ******~~**Ensure building works are completed by the 30**~~** ** ~~ **th**~~** ** ~~ **June (somehow)**~~** ~~~~



Files were dropped on the table in front of him, followed by a curt, “Mr Stark.”

Tony looked up from his own, very full file, that he’d been sifting through. Peter was standing in front of him, arms crossed and refusing to look at Tony. The knot in his stomach tightened. He twisted his fingers in his suit jacket pocket, tugging at the lining.

“Peter, I know you’re mad about Boston-”

“What, I’m not mad about Boston,” Peter instantly replied, tone rising in pitch and hands clenching into fists. “Why would I be mad? I mean, you totally cancelled on me last minute, after I’d already packed and had told Aunt May and Ned. May thought I was in trouble with you or something or that this internship was going to be cancelled.”

Tony hung his head, “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll call May. I can call Ned too if you want - or you can invite him up for a tour.”

Peter dropped his arms, letting them swing loosely, “thanks… why did you cancel though?”

Tony looked up, only to stare at the wall, “it was brought to my attention that it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to invite a teenage kid to a hotel. If someone recognised me and saw me with you… well, you’d never hear the end of it, Peter.”

There was a beat of silence, before… laughter. Tony spun around in his chair. Doubled over, clutching his sides, tears streaming out his eyes: Peter was laughing until there was no breath left in him, “that’s-” deep breath in, “-that’s what you were worried about? You’d never-”

“Of course not,” Tony replied instantly, more than a little indignant.

“Exactly! So why were you worried about it?”

“Peter,” Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, “it doesn’t matter what I know or what you know. If the paparazzi made up a story it would ruin your life.”

Peter perched on the edge of the desk, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to stifle his giggles, “yeah, but-” snicker, “I’m a nobody. What about your life?”

“My life doesn’t matter, kid.”

“But Mr Stark-”

“Master,” Friday piped up, “the Avengers will be here in approximately 10 minutes.”

Tony stood up, the chair skittering out behind him. He gripped the table, knuckles going white with his tension as his vision spotted black for a moment. He steeled himself. Everything should be fine. The Accords were laid out on the table, pens, highlighters, pencils all provided. Jugs of water were placed in the centre of the table, one at each end and glasses stacked in two towers between. There was coffee on the sideboard, along with fruit, cookies, and sandwiches ready to be brought over if anyone was even slightly hungry. Everything should be fine.

Tony turned to Peter, “Pete, I understand if you want to sit this one out-”

“Why would I want to sit this one out?” Peter retorted, visible confusion.

Tony ran an agitated hand through his hair, “Being here, it puts you at risk. Unnecessarily. What if they recognise you?”

“So what if they do?” Peter shrugged, “I doubt Captain America and Falcon are going to try and kill a teenager on the suspicions of him being-”

“Don’t say it out loud.” Tony dropped his gaze back to the table, scanning it again for any imperfection. “You are Peter Parker, my intern here to gain some work experience before college. You are sitting in on these meetings as you have been hand-selected by Ross and I am training you to take over my role as Avengers Liaison once I retire and you graduate-”

“Which I am.”

“Which you are,” Tony agreed, finally looking up, “but they aren’t idiots, I’m pretty sure they’ll put two and two together.”

“Then I’ll just make sure they come to five instead of four-”

“ _Peter_.”

Peter rolled his eyes, then crossed his arms across his chest, “you hired me to do this, I’m meant to be taking over so I’ll have to speak to them eventually, you thought it was fine when you needed me to fight them, why can’t I be here to listen to them talk?”

“Because,” Tony said quietly, “last time I tried to talk with Captain America, we ended up trying to kill each other-” he ignored Peter’s surprised gasp and continued- “Or rather I was trying to kill Sergeant Barnes and Captain Rogers was trying to kill me. None of the people joining us are heroes, myself included. Don’t underestimate them.”

Peter watched as Tony’s left hand twitched against where it was resting over the centre of his chest, “as you did?”

“As I did,” Tony agreed, “I promised Aunt May I’d keep you safe.”

“And you will, by letting me learn about the Avengers.”

“They aren’t your enemies.”

“I know,” Peter nodded, “and we aren’t theirs. But we aren’t all exactly friends either. Yet. And this isn’t about us.”

Tony groaned, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling, “I hate when you make sense.”

Peter grinned, “does that mean I can stay?”

“Yes, but I want you to remain near the door. You are to keep me between you and them. You are to observe only, any comments you have can be addressed with me after. If you feel even slightly threatened, leave.”

Peter nodded, “can I ask two more things?”

Tony sighed but gestured for him to continue.

“Why did you try to kill each other?”

Tony ran a hand down his face, closing his eyes and sucking in a deep breath. He shouldn’t have brought it up. But Peter really should know the type of person he was working with. Volatile, impulsive. Everything Natasha had ever said about him on that initial report was right.

“Long story kid. And we don’t have the time right now. Short version is Captain Rogers hid something very important from me regarding Sergeant Barnes and my past, and I got very mad about it. That’s about as much as you need to know.” That was better. He wasn’t going to dump his problems on a child. “You wanted to ask something else?”

Peter nodded, shifting where he stood. Tony had bent back over paperwork and Peter could see the thing that concerned him, edging over the top of his collar. Bruises in a rainbow of shades. Blacks and blues among the faded greenish yellows. Peter had had bruises like that before; different colours meant they were all in different stages of healing. They were recent but it seemed like two sets layered over each other, but Peter hadn’t heard of any big battles, or anything to warrant these injuries.

“Are you okay?”

If Peter was honest with himself, he was more than a little worried. Tony looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks, and he seemed to have lost a lot of weight. Tony was definitely hiding something. But before Peter could push the issue, they both heard footsteps from the end of the corridor.

“They’re coming,” Tony hissed, more to himself than anyone, “everything ready?” he asked Peter.

A nod, and Tony stood up as the door opened.

Clint strode in, complaining loudly.

“See, I told you he wouldn’t be here!”

“Clint,” Natasha tried to interject.

“No, come on, he wasn’t at the pardon, he didn’t come to greet us, he’s not here. He’s the whole reason we’re in this mess and he’s not even here!” Clint dropped heavily into the chair closest to the window, kicking his feet up on the table.

Wanda lowered herself quietly into the seat next to him, nodding along to his words.

“Barton,” Rogers said, voice low and sharp in warning, “that’s enough.” His whole body seemed to sigh as he sat down at the head of the table furthest from the door. He nudged Clint’s version of the Accords towards him. 

Barnes sat next to him, silent as the grave but staring at Tony with a level of confused recognition; his brow was furrowed and he kept opening his mouth as though to say something before glancing uncertainly around the room.

Scott sat next to Wanda, and Natasha opposite Scott. Sam was the last one to grab a seat, seemingly torn by the choice of the three remaining seats.

Tony had planned for this. One seat was for Sam, waiting to be chosen; he eventually sat in it, taking a seat next to Natasha. One seat was for Vision, on Tony’s right, if Vision ever decided to come back from his tour of Europe (or Africa, or Asia, or wherever in the world he was now). And the other seat on Tony’s left, one conveniently left spare next to him, was for Rhodey. He was finishing up physio but had promised Tony he’d be there in a half hour.

Tony just had to survive a half hour alone.

“No seriously, he’s meant to be here,” Clint said, “not that we’ll miss him but still. Dude, hey dude.” It took Tony a second to realise Clint was talking to him. “I thought Stark was meant to be here to _mediate.”_ Clint rolled his eyes, making air quotes around the word. “Or has he sent you to- what was the phrase you used Cap? Let you lay down on the wire so he could crawl over you.”

Tony could see Peter in his peripheral. Right as Clint walked in, the kid had been frozen in place, mouth agape. But now he took a step forward, fists balled and mouth about to open. Until Tony gave him a small wave under the table, hoping he’d translate it to standing down.

Thankfully he did, clenching his jaw but stepping back.

But instead Natasha piped up, “give it a rest Clint. We get it, you don’t like Stark.”

“Understatement,” Clint laughed, the sound harsh and grating.

Tony coughed, standing up. “Well… this is awkward.” He let his breath out in a rush, gripping the table edge to stop his hands shaking, “I suppose we should begin the first round table discussion of the amendments to the Accords. It’s… been a while, so I guess I should… To anyone who doesn’t remember: hi, I’m Tony Stark.”

There was an eerie silence around the table. All that was missing was tumbleweed and crickets chirping.

“The fuck happened to you?” Clint asked, taking his feet off the table and moving his chair back, further from Tony, “You look awful.”

Tony’s hand instantly went up to his jawline, fingers trying to curl into hair that wasn’t there any more. Ty had kept on about keeping his beard shaved off and his hair trimmed short.

“Barton,” Natasha hissed, “you’re being an ass.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Clint turned to Wanda, “am I wrong though?”

She snickered, shaking her head, “He looks like he crawled out of hell.”

“His kingdom.”

“Got off his throne for us.”

“That’s enough!” Steve cut off their laughter, voice raised and so close to shouting. Their laughter died out into silence.

“It’s okay, Captain,” Tony said quietly, “I guess I do look a bit different. It’s just a hair cut. Anyway,” Tony began shuffling through some of the papers in front of him, “some general housekeeping before we begin: toilets are down the hall, take a left and then it’s the third door on the right. If you have any questions during your time here, Friday can help you. Just talk and she can hear you - she’s an AI built into the building,” Tony explained at Scott’s excited look, “and please help yourself to the water, tea, and coffee on the counter-”

“Oh, how mighty generous of you.”

Ignoring Clint’s comment, Tony continued, “and we have food prepared if anyone is hungry. I’m hoping for Colonel Rhodes to join us in about a half hour; he’s finishing up a physio appointment. And this-” Tony gestured for Peter to step forward, “- is my intern, Peter. He’s here to learn and observe, as he has been selected as a potential candidate for Avengers Liaison when I retire. He’ll be doing a lot of my admin work.”

Peter gave a small wave, but the table just stared on: a mix of shocked looks and stone faces. Peter lowered his hand slowly. This was going to be a long day.

It had been nearly an hour and still no Rhodey. Not that it mattered - they couldn’t even make it past the first page. Every sentence out of Tony’s mouth seemed to spark an argument. Clint was arguing over the position of commas. Wanda kept interrupting to derail the conversation, talking about irrelevant topics. Clint and Wanda kept giggling and smirking - class clowns and Tony was just the substitute they were mocking - but everyone else seemed irritated and tired.

“Clint,” Natasha turned in her chair to face him, “you’re acting like a child.”

Clint laughed, “That’s rich, when we’re stuck here with the biggest child imaginable,” Clint finished with a pointed glare at Tony.

Rogers was about to speak but Tony interrupted, “Sorry Clint. I do want to work through this, and get a version of the accords signed-”

“Why do we even need the Accords?”

“Because you are all powerful individuals, and it is unrealistic that you shouldn’t be overseen.”

“What do you mean, us? You’re the damn issue.”

Tony nodded, “I am. That’s why I retired. Once the Accords are signed, I’m done. You won’t ever have to see me again, Clint.”

Clint grinned, shark-toothed and snarling, “so the sooner we get this done-”

“The sooner I am out of your life entirely,” Tony confirmed, keeping his voice even and monotone.

This was how it was meant to play out. He expected this. Actually, he expected more from the others. More of anything, more conversation, more insults. They were just staring at him. And he couldn’t understand their expressions. He didn’t think he wanted to understand their expressions. He could feel their eyes on him but he refused to break gaze with Clint. And Clint broke first.

“So… you won’t be an Avenger once the Accords are signed?” he asked, voice suddenly a lot more… a lot more of something. Pensive. Hollow. Sullen. Any of those. None of them. Something.

Tony shrugged, “I was never an Avenger. I was the Avengers’ Consultant.”

Wanda tutted, “surprised they let you stay on as a consultant. You make the worst decisions.”

“I do. This is why I am not making the decisions on the Accords. A draft - what you have in front of you - has been created to comply with various countries laws and regulations. We’re-”

“We?” Scott interrupted.

“The United States Government,” Tony corrected, “is extremely open to amendments on this draft. I am here to help facilitate the conversation as I have prior relationships with both invested parties. To the best of my knowledge, we have had heads of State look into this version of the accords to make suggestions or raise concerns.”

He didn’t mean to but his voice and tone slipped. He could feel it become rote, uninteresting. It became the speech he had practised in the mirror - the reasons and explanations he’d rehearsed each night.

“So why you?” Sam leaned back in his chair, “how did you get dragged into this?”

“I broke the original version of Accords,” Tony answered simply, “so this is the punishment set out by General Ross.”

“You?” Steve looked up from the desk, “You broke the Accords?”

“Ross found out I went to Siberia. You were right when you said it would be a lot of paperwork.”

The team kept looking between Tony and Steve, blank expressions and furrowed brows.

“What happened in Siberia?” Sam asked, turning to Steve.

Steve looked at Tony, his eyes searching. Peter leaned forward, curiosity mounting. But silence reigned. It was as if Steve expected Tony to broach the topic first. Barnes hesitated, not meeting either Steve’s or Tony’s eyes. Instead the pen in his hand seemed to hold all the information of the Library of Alexandria.

“Don’t worry,” Tony answered cheerily, all eyes flicking back to him, “I was following up on a lead, and it didn’t go as planned.”

Clint rolled his eyes, “so again, we’re stuck dealing with your mistakes?”

Whatever calmer atmosphere that had built was shattered with those words.

Tony’s chest went tight and air seemed thin. But he kept up a façade of a smile as he addressed Clint. “I’m sorry.” And he tried to put every amount of sincerity into those words.

It wasn’t enough.

“Do you know how much we’ve all had to give up because of you?” Clint demanded, a question without a question. “We’re all paying for your crimes. Why do you never face any consequences? We break the Accords and we’re thrown in the Raft. But you break the Accords and they give you an office job? How is that fair?”

“It isn’t,” Tony acknowledged.

It wasn’t fair. It didn’t matter how much Tony didn’t want to be here, the truth was undeniable: he should be in the Raft. The only reason he wasn’t was:

“By the time I returned from Siberia, the Accords were already under review. This is why I wasn’t sent to the Raft.”

“So can’t we just ignore the Accords and go back to how it was before?” Scott asked.

Tony was about to speak when Steve weighed in, “No. As part of the pardon, we cannot undertake certain _tasks_ -”

“Super-heroing,” Clint added in a stage-whisper.

“If we do, we’ll be criminals again.”

Tony nodded along, letting Steve’s words wash over him. He knew all of this - he helped write the pardon after all - but still, he feigned mild surprise at the words.

There was a knock at the door, which opened before anyone could respond. Rhodey walked in. He had an easy smile, a relaxed gait, and was ignoring the open stares at his prosthetics. He sat down next to Tony and offered him a grin. Tony responded in kind, feeling the tightness in his chest ease just a little.

Until his phone went off. Ty’s name flashed on screen.

“Sorry about that,” Tony declined the call, “Colonel Rhodes, thank you for joining us. We were discussing-”

His ring tone chimed again. Tony declined the call, only to have the phone ring again instantly. Ty. Maybe something had happened. Tony frowned down at the screen.

“Excuse me for a second,” Tony slipped out the door, ignoring Clint’s jab.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get more done with you gone.”

He answered the phone, having managed to sequester himself into a stationery cupboard, immediately pulling the phone away from his ear.

“TONY, WHAT THE FUCK? WHY WEREN’T YOU ANSWERING?!”

“Ty, sorry, I was in a meeting..”

“With _them._ You need to answer when I call you.”

“Ty, I can’t always-”

“I was so worried, what if they had killed you? You know, I bet that’s what they’re planning.”

“Ty, they wouldn’t-”

“Answer me when I call you. On the first ring. Don’t make me ring multiple times, are you trying to make me feel bad?”

Tony swallowed hard, nodding even though Ty couldn’t see, “I didn’t mean to make you worry. I’ll pick up next time.”

“I only worry because I care about you. I don’t want _them_ having you all to themselves.”

“I know Ty, but Rhodey’s here, he’ll step in if things get to be too much.”

Ty hummed disapprovingly.

“What?”

“I mean, do you really believe that? Doesn’t he like Rogers? Are you sure he’ll defend you?”

“He has respect for Steve-”

“More than he has for you. I mean, you remember the dinner right? You let him walk all over you.”

“No I didn’t!” Tony protested.

He could hear Ty chuckle down the phone, derisive and scathing, “oh man, how in denial are you. Just listen to him next time he talks to you. He’s always talking down to you. _And_ he bosses you around constantly. You need to put your foot down. You should tell him to leave you alone.”

“Ty-”

“You gotta be realistic Tony. Just see how he talks to you once you’re back in the meeting.”

Tony sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Okay, I’ll see how he talks to me.”

“I just hate seeing people use you, Tony. I’m only looking out for you.”

Tony’s mouth quirked up, not enough for a smile - he didn’t have he energy for that - but enough to remind him that someone had his back, “Thanks - I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Suffer,” Ty laughed, “Or starve.”

Tony joined in the laughter. It was always so easy with Ty. “I’ll call you after.”

“You better. Love you.”

“Love you more.”

He slipped back into the meeting room, tucking his phone back into his jacket pocket. Despite Clint’s comment, they hadn’t actually made any progress. Things seemed to have devolved into a screaming match between Clint and Natasha. At this point they weren’t even saying words. Just… hollering.

And Tony was meant to get them to all agree on something.

He was going to have this job forever.

“Oh, you’re _finally_ back,” Clint snidely remarked as Tony sat down.

Tony nodded, “I’m sorry. Personal emergency.”

Clint scoffed, gesturing at Tony as he turned back to Natasha, “see, I told you he wasn’t taking this seriously.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, “he’s the only one who’s taken this seriously from the beginning so can you just cut it out? Why are you being such a dick?”

Clint scowled, slumping in his chair. “I’m not being a dick. But we’ve made sacrifices. What’s he lost?”

“Does he have to have have lost something to be worth something to you?” Natasha countered.

Clint stuttered, “well, no but-”

Steve spoke up, glancing up to meet Tony’s eyes before his gaze skittered back to the table, “Clint,” Steve’s voice was tired and heavy, something brittle and fragile in it, “drop it. Please. This isn’t helping.”

“Sure, blame me, but-”

“ _Clint,”_ Steve snapped, “enough. Go take a walk.”

“You’re putting me on _time out,_ ” Clint scoffed, disbelievingly, “Really?”

Steve nodded, “We’re here to work together and move forward. If you can’t do that then leave.” He pointed to the door.

Clint pushed away from the table, chair scraping loudly along the floor. Wanda stood with him, chair clattering as she tucked in under the table.

“He goes, I go,” she threatened.

Steve nodded, “Okay, you both go then.”

Clint stomped out the room, Wanda trailing behind him. The silence they left in their wake spread between them. Not even the sound of breathing filled the room. The sound of a pin dropping would be deafening to them now.

“You shouldn’t’ve done that,” Tony said, looking at Steve, “it won’t help to kick them out. Clint has valid grievances with me, and the least I can do is hear them and respect them-”

“Tony,” Natasha interrupted, “he doesn’t have _valid grievances_ , he’s being an asshole. If he has grievances, he can say them politely.”

“Well kicking him out won’t make him politer,” Scott sighed, “if anything he’ll…”

They all knew. He was going to blame Tony for it. Tony clapped his hands, bringing the attention back on him, “Okay, maybe we should call it a day there?”

Everyone else in the room nodded. The energy had been drained from them all in the last five minutes. Everyone moved tiredly towards the door. Tony went around the room collecting papers and placing everything into individual files - this way everyone would get their own copy of the Accords back.

As Natasha passed, she placed her hand on Tony’s arm, “don’t pay attention to Clint. He’s going through some things right now.”

Tony smiled half-heartedly at her, his weary reply came before he could stop it, “aren’t we all?”

She nodded, patting his arm and leaving the room. She passed Steve, who was standing awkwardly by the door. Rhodey stood opposite him, arms folded as everyone filed out. Tony nodded at Peter, who took that as permission he could leave. When Tony was done with the folders, Steve tried to talk. He tried to place a reassuring hand on Tony’s arm - to catch his attention, to show that Steve wanted to talk to him - but Tony flinched away from it.

Rhodey grabbed Steve’s wrist, tugging it forcefully away from Tony. He smiled benignly at Steve, a challenge to confront him. But Steve dropped his head.

“Tony, I was wondering if we could talk about…” he trailed off, glancing between Rhodey and Tony, “about what happened.”

Tony took a couple of quick steps back, breath catching on every exhale. At that, Rhodey moved to step fully between them.

“I’m sorry Captain, Miss Potts made sure to schedule all of Tony’s meetings today, since he’s in the office. I’m charged with getting him there and he’s already running late. Could you please step aside so we can pass?”

Rhodey gestured for Steve to step aside and for a moment, Tony wasn’t sure he would. Not because he was being stubborn, but he seemed to freeze under Rhodey’s gaze.

But when he did, it was with a hasty apology, “Of course, Colonel. Sorry, I- I didn’t mean to block you.”

Rhodey ushered Tony out the room and towards his office.

It was only once the office door was shut and Rhodey had gently pushed Tony into sitting on his uncomfortable office couch, did he think to query Rhodey’s words.

“Rhodey,” Tony asked, “Pepper never scheduled me any meetings today?”

Rhodey nodded, “yeah, I know. But when Rogers reached for you, I thought you were going to pass out. You went really pale.”

Tony picked at the side of his nails, trying to fight the urge to bite them.

“I know I encouraged you to talk to them but… I’m sorry, I was wrong. I didn’t realise things were this messed up.”

“That’s okay, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not okay, and it’s definitely not fine. I should have respected it when you said you didn’t want to. I really am sorry, Tones.”

Rhodey pulled Tony into a hug, which Tony slumped into. He had a headache piercing his skull, and his brain felt like it had been wrung out to dry. His mouth was dry and felt… dusty, and his hands were shaking even as he gripped against Rhodey’s shirt. He pressed his face against Rhodey’s shoulder, closing his eyes to shut out the light.

“I have nightmares. Whenever I sleep alone, I’m back in Siberia.”

Rhodey nodded, placing a hand on the back of Tony’s head.

“I wanted to kill Barnes, I really did. But…”

They waited in the quiet, letting Tony take a moment to gather the words.

“But I really think Steve and Barnes were trying to kill me too. There was a moment when… Steve had his shield and I thought he was going to bring it down on my neck, or head or something.”

“I’m sorry,” Rhodey hugged him tighter, “I should have known you had your reasons. When you said almost killed you I thought you meant the airport incident or leaving you with a battered suit in Siberia - not that that is any better but… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

“I should talk to him though,” Tony acquiesced, “I know I should. I can’t avoid him - he’s my colleague again.”

“Screw that, wait until you’re ready.”

“But Ross-”

“I’ll deal with Ross,” Rhodey responded confidently, “if you want to speak with Rogers, that’s fine, but do it on your own terms.”

“Bossy,” Tony teased, “always bossing me about.”

Rhodey laughed, “yeah, only ‘cause my little brother is always getting in trouble.”

“I do not!”

Rhodey made a doubting hum, and Tony pushed against his chest, “I don’t always get in trouble. It’s not like I go looking for it!”

Rhodey shook his head, “no, I know. You just know a lot of troublesome people.”

“Yeah, I’m sat with one of them.”

Rhodey laughed, “I wouldn’t or I’ll get Pepper to really schedule you some meetings.”

“Sorry, can’t, I am a full time Avengers Liaison now.”

July 1st 2017 – 12:41pm

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **11**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Tame Garden 
    * Go to Home Depot and pick up the gardening tools
  * Restock First Aid Kit
  * ********Finish the Accords (Changes made - only finished once Avengers approve)****
  * Set up private server at home 
    * Move documents off server in compound ~~~~



Food Eaten:

  * Well… he must have eaten something today… or maybe he forgot? Doesn’t matter, a day of fasting might help his weight loss restart
  * Cups of Coffee x9 (9x black, no sugar)




	23. Chapter 23

#  ****Chapter 23 - Insta Famous** **

July 3rd 2017 – 07:15pm

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **10**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Tame Garden 
    * Go to Home Depot and pick up the gardening tools
  * Restock First Aid Kit
  * ********Finish the Accords (Changes made - only finished once Avengers approve)****
  * Set up private server at home 
    * Move documents off server in compound ~~~~



Tony snapped another picture. The soup starter he’d made for Ty looked pretty decent. It was pumpkin soup, with a swirl of crème fraîche, and toasted sage leaves to garnish. Ty would be down any second and then he could serve it. He posted the picture quickly, setting the soup on the table for Ty. It steamed happily in its bowl as Tony bustled about putting the final touches on the main. He’d found a recipe online: bacon-wrapped pork tenderloin, filled with handmade apple and onion stuffing. He’d had to butterfly the tenderloin but it had been easier than he’d thought. There was about 10 more minutes left for the tenderloin to roast. Enough time for Ty to eat the soup. Tony called up the stairs for Ty; his uniform was strewn across the floor, from the front door and leaving a trail up the stairs. Tony sighed and began picking up the pieces of uniform left about. He could hear Ty stir from his nap - he’d been on nothing but night shifts for the past few days so he’d crashed the moment he got back from work. Tony called again for him. The door opened to Ty staring groggily out. He grunted at Tony, who stepped out the way as Ty walked to the table to all but inhale the soup.

“Better?” Tony asked, once the bowl was cleaned out.

Ty shrugged, and let his head fall onto the table. Tony pressed a quick kiss to his hair before folding Ty’s uniform and leaving it carefully on the arm of the couch. The pork should be done now. The bacon had browned nicely and the pork didn’t look too bad either - maybe a bit drier than Tony would have liked but he could do better next time. He served Ty up a plate - alongside roast vegetables and buttery mash. Tony portioned himself up a plate as well, making sure everything looked as immaculate as Ty’s before snapping a picture. The mash was swirled delicately, and the stuffing smelt pretty good too. He’d decorated the plate with a sprig of thyme. Posted to Instagram. Tony sat down with Ty and glanced at Ty’s untouched meal. Maybe he hadn’t been hungry. But Ty instead took Tony’s plate and swapped it for his own.

“Yours looks nicer.”

Tony smiled, “sorry, have whichever you prefer.”

“What if I want both?” Ty challenged.

Tony laughed - today felt light, their words not weighing them down - “Have both. We have plenty for seconds.”

Ty pulled a face, “if you eat all that, you’ll-”

Tony smiled, finishing the sentence, “get fat, I know, Ty. I’m not going to eat it all. Honestly, I don’t think I can manage all this so help yourself to whatever you want.”

Ty scooped half the mash onto his plate and took both pieces of tenderloin Tony had set out.

“Thanks,” Tony said.

He twirled a spoon in the mash. Now he thought about it, he’d added quite a lot of butter to the mash. And salt. That couldn’t be good for him. He needed to watch what he ate - keep his heart healthy. So he pushed the mash about the plate with his spoon and ate the odd roasted carrot, but the thought of all that oil and butter and salt just put him off.

Ty pushed his empty plate away, rubbing his stomach with a satisfied grin. “I have to admit, you’re not just a…”

“Pretty face?” Tony supplied, finishing the expression.

Ty shook his head, “I mean, you’re not that either. But you can make decent pork.”

“Thanks… I think,” Tony stood to take the plates to the kitchen.

Ty caught his hand as he reached for the plate, pressing a soft kiss to the palm, “I love you, you know that right?”

He wanted to cry. For just a moment, he wanted to cry. He didn’t know why. So he nodded instead, offering his own declaration of love in return, with a press of lips to Ty’s temple and assurances that Tony didn’t mind if he headed back to bed.

Ty did just that and Tony cleaned up in peace.

He settled in to watch the news. Letting the presenter’s voice drone over him, Tony checked his phone. Odd. He had notifications from Instagram. Despite never tagging anything and never following anything, somehow someone had managed to find his page. They’d liked a couple of recent pictures and even followed him. Thinking it might be a cooking blog, Tony checked his list of followers. No. This one didn’t appear to be. Just someone’s personal page - bad pictures of sunsets and clichéd snapshots of latte art.

He almost dropped his phone when it vibrated in his hand.

He had a new message from his follower. He checked out his messages.

_Hi_

That was it… Tony waited but no other messages came through. So Tony typed back:

_Hi?  
_

Tony watched as the ellipses appeared on the screen and jumped slightly when a new message came through. 

_How are you?_

Tony narrowed his eyes at the screen. Had this person figured out who he was? Were they working an angle?

 _I’m… good._ _  
__What do you want?_

_Your pork looks great._

Tony took a moment to stare down at the message.

_Do you often slide into DMs to compliment men on their pork?_

_DMs?_

_Direct messages._

_Oh, no I don’t. But your pork looks great._

_Uh, I have a boyfriend._

_So do I. What does that have to do with your tenderloin?_

_I’m not interested, sorry._

_I just want the recipe._

Oh! Well… that’s embarrassing.

 _Ah, sorry, I got some wires crossed. The recipe, I’ll send you the link._ _  
_[ _ https://rb.gy/sgdw2u _ ](https://rb.gy/sgdw2u)

_I am so confused_

_Sorry, but when you said pork I thought you meant… never mind._

_Oh._ _  
__OH._ _  
__No, sorry, I’m sure you’re great but I was just after the recipe._

_Aww, letting me down easy. In my defence, if you read that back, who the hell asks someone how they are instead of asking for the recipe?_

_It’s polite. Is that not how things are done nowadays?_

_I guess it’s polite, but… no one really bothers with that online. And nowadays? How old are you?_

_I’m seventy, but with the body of a twenty-five year old?_

_Since I sent you the recipe, can you send me your gym routine? I’d love to be 25 again._

_I mean, I don’t really do anything special._

_Let me guess, it’s all just typical diet and exercise._

_Yeah, it is_

_I’ve heard that before - seriously, what’s your secret?_

_I don’t have one._

Tony rolled his eyes.

_Suuuuuuure. But yeah, recipe is above. If you want any of the others, let me know._

Tony was almost about to lock his phone again, slip it back into his pocket. But he then saw the ellipses appear on screen. So he waited. Not that it mattered really. He didn’t know why he waited. Eventually the message popped up.

_There’s a dish from a few weeks back, pasta in a cream sauce?_

_Oh that - that’s not really a recipe, it’s just something I made up because I didn’t have the right ingredients._

_Do you remember how you made it? It looks good, I’d love to give it a try._

_I mean, sure, but I’m not the best cook._

_Nor am I. Just hoping I don’t poison my boyfriend._

_So it’s my kinda carbonara - it’s nothing like a real carbonara, my nonna would box my ears if she saw me making this - but it’s easy enough to make, not too expensive, and most of the stuff people have in their kitchens anyway. It is kind of unhealthy, but totally worth it …_

Tony went on to explain the recipe. He kept on talking, about how he chopped onions in a way that helped avoid the crying, and how he softened the onions using the bacon fat. He talked about how he started making it with cream but switched to milk. Flour to thicken and pepper to taste - he never bothered with salt since bacon was already salty. Make sure the sauce is thick if you’re using spaghetti - did you know that a single strand of spaghetti is a spaghetto? - or use pasta with a hole in it if you’re opting for a thinner sauce, penne or conchiglie works well.

The man was asking questions on timing and how much garlic to use - as much as you like, being Tony’s only response, even when he was pressed for specifics - and what to serve it with.

_Can’t ever go wrong with a side salad - I’d suggest a vinaigrette as dressing instead of ranch or something heavier. And you’ll probably want a white wine with this dish - Sauv Blanc is the best for this._

_You really know your food_

Tony swallowed hard. He didn’t really. He’d just… If he was hungry he’d go through recipe books and websites, trying to find something to eat. He never found anything but he kept trying. He’d watch tutorials on YouTube and the Food Network was on in the background when he worked out in his workshop. But when it came to actual enjoyment of the food, the eating of it... it all ended up tasting kind of… bland. The flavour was there - he could taste it but he couldn’t at the same time.

_Not really. It’s just a hobby._

_I just read._

_Read recipe books instead?_

_Is that what you do?_

Tony sent a thumbs up emoji. Once more, he was about to lock his screen but something stopped him. It’s not like he talked about his cooking much. His phone buzzed again with a new message.

_I can bake. Sort of. My friend’s ma taught me but I don’t remember much._

_I can’t bake at all. I should try it._

Tony set his phone down, glancing over the recipe books that had accumulated under the coffee table. Ty never seemed to mind if Tony kept his stuff there - out of sight, out of mind. So he leafed through a couple of recipe books. None of them focused on desserts but there were the odd couple of recipes at the back. His phone buzzed urgently. Tony unlocked the phone with a flick of his thumb and there, greeting him on screen, was the most gorgeous plate of cookies ever. He was salivating at the thought.

_Don’t suppose you have the recipe for those?_

_Sure. Give me a sec._

His follower sent him a photo of a handwritten note, writing a messy scrawl all over the page, covered in crossings-out and corrections. Barely readable, but Tony could just about decipher it.

_Sorry, I know it’s messy. I was trying to figure out ma’s recipe but it, well…_

_It took a few attempts?_

_More than a few._

Tony snickered. He’d been there, trying to figure out his mom’s cannelloni. He’d never succeeded and Ty had yelled at him for wasting so much food and making a mess of the kitchen. He hadn’t really attempted since.

_Successful?_

_Eventually.  
_ _Why is your username The_Crepuscular _Cook? Wouldn’t The_Crepuscular _Chef work better?_

_I mean, I’m no chef_

_Also Crepuscular?_

_Did you message me just to pick apart my username? All a ploy, you never wanted my tenderloins!_ _  
__But I tend to cook more at dawn and dusk, because I cook for my partner and that’s usually when he gets up or comes back from work._ _  
__And excuse me, your username is weirder!_

And it kinda was. Most people made their usernames their name, or something about what their page was about. But this guy’s username felt… out of step.

_Is it that weird?_

Tony could feel the apprehension from here, the sudden unease and embarrassment, as though Tony had caught him in the act of something humiliating.

 _Not really_ _  
__Just doesn’t make sense._

_It’s a joke between me and my boyfriend_

_Oh, that… that will do it. So no one else would get it but you two_

_Pretty much. Can’t think of anyone who could have overheard us._

_I guess your username isn’t that weird then. Just a bit…_ _  
__Niche?_ _  
__Also, won’t your partner get annoyed that you’ve spent the last forty minutes chatting to me?_

_Why would he?_

Tony wasn’t really sure. He knew that if Ty wasn’t asleep, he’d be mad that Tony wasn’t paying attention to him. But that’s only because they were both so busy that it was hard to make time for each other. Tony had to make sure to put in the effort.

_Not the jealous sort then?_

_No, he’s happy for me to chat to you._

_Fair enough._

Tony had to do a mental shrug. Relationships come in all different dynamics and this was just a different dynamic than what he was used to.

_I’ll leave you and your partner to your evening. If you cook either of the recipes, send me pics._

_Pics?_

_You know, pictures…_ _  
__Were you serious when you said you’re 70?_

_Not really, I lost count of the years a couple of decades ago._

Tony had to stifle his laughter behind his hand.

_You sound like a vampire._

_I prefer hemoglobinly challenged._

_Make the pork then - you’ll need the red meat._ _  
__I have to go work out, message if you want any more recipes._

_Work out? It’s late?_

_As good a time as any. Got to figure out this seventy year old's routine. Toodles_

Tony moved into the workshop, desperate to burn off the dinner he’d eaten. He’d run on the treadmill for a couple of hours, then maybe shower and head to bed. Or stay up and work on the accords. Since Clint had so many issues with everything written, maybe he should go over it again. Or he could look into some baking recipes - diversify his insta a little.

He could try that recipe his follower sent him.

Despite the explanation, Tony still found his user name weird.

After all _Took.All.The.Stupid.With.Me_ seemed really intelligent. So Tony would hate to meet his partner, if _Took.All.The.Stupid_ was the dumb one in the relationship.

July 3rd 2017 – 08:56pm

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **10**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Tame Garden 
    * Go to Home Depot and pick up the gardening tools
  * Restock First Aid Kit
  * ********Finish the Accords (Changes made - only finished once Avengers approve)****
  * Set up private server at home 
    * Move documents off server in compound ~~~~



Food Eaten:

  * Several spoonfuls of pumpkin soup
  * Spoonful of mash
  * Roast veg
  * Cups of Coffee x4 (4x black, no sugar)




	24. Chapter 24

#  ****Chapter 24 - Salvage** **

July 8th 2017 – 11:56am

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **10**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Tame Garden 
    * Go to Home Depot and pick up the gardening tools
  * Restock First Aid Kit
  * ********Finish the Accords (Changes made - only finished once Avengers approve)****
  * Set up private server at home 
    * Move documents off server in compound ~~~~



He stepped off the scales. Nothing. No change. Still the exact same weight as he was almost a week ago. Pulling a face, he pressed his hand into his stomach, breathing in as deeply as he could. Not enough. He pulled at the skin on his hips, balled his fist against the skin that felt too loose over his stomach.

_Love handles._

_Muffin top._

_Thunder Thighs._

It was like he’d never seen his own body in the mirror before. Words he never thought to apply to it rushed forward. All he could see was a body that didn’t seem to be his. He’d been trying to lose weight when really he needed to wrestle his weight into submission.

He pinched his thighs.

He didn’t know when he’d let his body get this… out of control. But he sure as hell wasn’t going to let it stay like this.

Sitting on the toilet, he pulled out his phone. Trawling through site after site, reading diet after diet, nothing seemed right. Everything seemed to have too much of everything. Words seemed to jump off the pages: Atkins, Keto, Paleo, Flexi-tarian, Wheatgrass, Vegan.

But there was one that looked… interesting. It still seemed like a lot. A lot of eating. And it suggested three meals a day. Except… Well, with the Accords, he usually didn’t have time for breakfast. And when he was at the compound, he couldn’t exactly just waltz into the Avengers’ kitchen and make himself some lunch. So dinner. He could maybe have a larger dinner if that’s all he was having. But if he was eating with Ty, Ty always wants the larger dinner.

He could go vegan. It would get him out of meals. Everyone always cooked with meat or cheese or butter. It would be a nice polite excuse to get out of it. No more eating out - or at least less eating out - because there might not be a vegan option.

Except… Ty wouldn’t like that. He couldn’t go vegan. That’s stupid. Stupid.

He wanted to scream. Nothing worked. He needed to get a grip. He needed to control this better. He couldn’t let himself slip.

“Tony,” Ty called through the bathroom door, “when you’ve got a sec, can we talk?”

Tony quickly pulled a robe back over himself.

_He’s going to break up with you - ‘can we talk?’ is never good._

Tony smiled as he opened the door.

“I was thinking…”

Tony hummed, fingers tapping against the door frame; it was rare to see Ty so careful with his words.

“I want to redecorate.”

Tony heaved a sigh. That was it? That’s all Ty wanted to say?

“Sure, what did you have in mind?”

“Well, the house doesn’t really feel like _ours._ It feels like yours.”

Tony caught himself before he said something stupid - the house was his. He paid for it. But this was meant to be a partnership - equal.

“So I was thinking, we should make more space for us. I can’t always be using all of your things. And it would be nice to have some space of my own.”

“Sure.” Seemed fair. “What were you thinking?”

“Well, I think the garage would make a great gym.”

“We already have gym equipment in there.”

Ty pulled a face, “I know, but there’s all your work stuff and, well you’ve got that creepy robot arm thing in there-”

“Dummy?”

Ty snorted, “that’s what you call it? How… apt. Yeah, Dummy. It’s not like you really need all your workshop stuff here any more. Your work isn’t even that important and you’re going to retire anyway.”

“But I-”

Ty rolled his eyes, “I know you enjoy your little hobby, but come on Tony. We’re trying to build a home together. Can’t you be reasonable and compromise?”

“I- I guess. I can take everything up to the compound, but I’ll need to be gone over the weekend.”

Ty waved him off dismissively, “you don’t need a weekend. Just stick your stuff in one of their storage rooms and come back.”

“It’s a long drive,” Tony protested, “I don’t want to do it all in a day.”

“You do it during the week. But whatever I guess. You just don’t want to spend time with me.”

“Ty, of course I do, but I’m exhausted. I’m constantly at the compound and here. How about just the one night and then I’ll be back first thing in the morning.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just pack up your junk. Then we’ll have more space to make this a home together.” He took Tony’s hands in his, running his thumbs over the back of them. “I’m so excited, we get to build this life together.”

Tony smiled, biting down the feeling that knotted his his chest. It was like the arc reactor was playing up, only he didn’t have the arc reactor.

Would Dummy be okay at the compound? He’d left Butterfingers and You there, so it should be fine. And if he was clearing the workshop, he should probably clear all the rest of the junk. After all, it was just scraps and leftover prototypes. Maybe he could leave them at the workshop. He had a small storage cupboard in there. This would pack it to the brim, but he could find time to sort it.

Ty helped him load up Dummy, the two of them struggling to lift the chassis into the car. The rest of the space was packed full of boxes of paperwork, and bags of old t-shirts he’d left in the attic for months, and scraps of old prototypes Ty had unceremoniously dumped in an old shopping bag. Anything Tony could save and maybe find a new life for.

He had to fight to keep the Iron Man armour in its safe inside the garage. Ty had wanted him to take that too.

It hadn’t been a good fight.

But it was fine. It was what it was.

Ty had let him keep the suit. Practicality and all. Needing to fight the bad guys. Needing to fly to the compound damn near daily for Avengers talks. Made a four and a half hour drive into about two hours - faster if he pushed the suit to its top speed. He’d managed to convince Ty; said he’d be able to come home sooner and get away from the Avengers quicker if he kept it here.

He pulled away from his house in Boston, taking the long drive down to the compound.

The very very _very_ long drive. There was a lot of driving down the highways, or through little rural towns that seemed to be completely disconnected to the outside world. Like internet would be so slow, it would take a week for an email to reach you. Like it was a perfect little town frozen in place. Like you could disappear, be kept hidden away, and just fade out of memory until only those in the little town could remember your name.

It was evening before he was even close, having needed to make a pit stop at some dingy gas station. And it was just turning nightfall before he pulled into the compound’s garage. The florescent lights buzzed above him, angry at his intrusion. He never came here on weekends; it was better to keep work and home separate, have separate free time.

Thankfully, his workshop was connected to the garage so he didn’t have far to go. The boxes were unloaded, clothes shoved into the back of the cupboard. But Dummy proved some difficulty. Tony huffed a frustrated laugh as he tried to lift Dummy out of the trunk.

“Have you put on weight? Seems like you’ve put on weight.”

Dummy whirred at him. Somehow the noise sounded concerned.

“Don’t worry, we’ll stick you on a diet too then. You can be my diet buddy.”

Another sad whir.

Exhausted, Tony gave up for a moment. He sunk onto the concrete floor. He felt so out of breath, and his vision seemed blurred and spotted with black.

Dummy’s claw came to rest on his shoulder, giving him a gentle tap.

“Yeah, buddy, I’m right here. I’m just joking - I’m not going to stick you on a diet. I just used to be stronger, you know.”

Dummy hummed, the machine sounding like reluctant agreement.

“You might have to spend the night in the car though. Although, it’s not like I have a room here, so I will probably join you. Either that or the couch. What do you think? Back seat or couch?”

Dummy whirred, undecided. With a sigh, Tony lay down in the trunk next to Dummy. There wasn’t much he could do. Dummy was too heavy for him to lift by himself. If he couldn’t get Dummy out, it would be longer than a night that Dummy would be spending in the car. And Dummy would need to recharge.

“I’ll figure something out,” he promised to the empty garage, “not just for you, but for everything.”

He closed his eyes for a second. His legs were hanging out the car, so he let his foot tap out an idle tune on the bumper, trying to let the rhythm prompt some huge idea that would fix everything.

But it didn’t.

Instead he just felt exhausted. And now that he’d closed his eyes his eyes against the fluorescent lights above him, the side of his face throbbed. It _really_ hadn’t been a good fight. But they’d had worse. Hell, Tony had had worse as an Avenger. He was just being a baby about it.

He hated the throbbing feeling. Like he could feel his pulse in his cheeks. He could hear his blood rushing under his skin. Loud, like a siren crying out along empty streets. But it was fine. It shouldn’t bruise. It wasn’t even that hard.

The sound of footsteps echoed through the garage. Fast at first, as they entered the garage from outside - they sounded heavy, like the owner of the feet had been running - and then slower as they drew closer to the car Tony was lying in.

Maybe if he didn’t move, whoever it was wouldn’t notice him.

“Tony? What are you doing here?”

Fuck. And of course, it had to be-

“Rogers,” Tony responded, trying to keep his tone even when it wanted to fall somewhere between apologetic and curt. “Just dropping some things off. I’ll be out of here as soon as I can be.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean- you know you’re always welcome here-”

Did he know that? Clint certainly didn’t seem to want to roll out the welcome wagon.

“I was just surprised. We never see you at the weekend.”

“Like I said, just dropping some things off.”

“At,” Steve paused to check his watch, “8pm on a Saturday night?”

“Yuh-huh,” Tony finally sat up.

Steve was standing at least six feet away. The distance was careful. Tony might even call it calculated, planned, decisive.

_He doesn’t want to be near you._

The man was still shining with sweat, shirt damp with it and skin looking uncomfortably sticky. It made Tony feel kind of ill. He couldn’t quite place why.

_Unclean. It makes you feel unclean. Don’t let him touch you. He’ll make you unclean too._

But he’d been sweaty before. And oily, and greasy and all other forms of unclean. So why did feeling unclean bother him so much lately?

_Ty doesn’t like things to be unclean, untidy, unkempt. Things need to be clean._

“Tony?”

Tony blinked. He’d been staring at Steve’s shirt. Particularly the patch that was over his chest, the grey coloured dark by sweat.

But Steve was looking at him. And it was that expectant look. No demand to it, but just… one that clearly showed he was waiting on Tony. The one that meant he’d just asked Tony something.

“Do you need a hand?” Steve repeated. He gestured to Dummy, “He looks heavy, I can help get Dummy out the car.”

_He thinks you’re weak. Can’t get Dummy out the car on your own._

_You are weak. Pathetic. Need to go running back to Steve._

But he nodded. It’s not like he could do this on his own.

“That would be great. I’ll take the left and you take the right.”

Tony climbed out the car, limbs feeling in the way of himself. He moved to the left side and Steve moved right. Together, they started inching Dummy out of the trunk. The bot gave encouraging beeps as it was slowly moved out of the car. Steve smiled a little at the beeps, one of his fingers tapping absently on the bot’s outer casing. It was like he was petting Dummy. Just a little at least.

_Don’t be ridiculous. You’re the only one stupid enough to pet a robot._

But the motion became less of a tap and more of a… pet. Maybe he wasn’t the only one stupid enough.

Steve squinted at him for a moment, before opening his mouth to say something. He closed it again, but whatever captured his curiosity soon got the better of him.

“What’s that?” he asked, gesturing with a jut of his chin at Tony’s face.

Frowning, Tony glanced around. Nothing but him. “Me?”

Steve shook his head, “No, by your eye. I thought it was just the light, but it looks like a bruise.”

Both of Tony’s hands jumped to the cheek Ty had struck. Steve dropped to his knees, grabbing Dummy’s chassis in an attempt to compensate for the loss of Tony’s support. It partially worked, but the bot made a noise which could only be described as a terrified screech as it tilted dangerously towards the concrete. Tony grabbed the chassis again. Pulling himself out from being half under Dummy, Steve stood back up and rearranged his grip on the bot.

“Sorry,” Tony apologised, staring intently on one of Dummy’s wheels and purposefully away from Steve. “Didn’t mean to do that.”

“Sorry, that was my fault.” Steve patted on of Dummy’s wheels reassuringly, “Don’t worry, we wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

The bot gave an annoyed whir, which to Tony’s ears sounded remarkably like, “well, I know Steve wouldn’t.”

Tony huffed, “Dummy, c’mon, I didn’t mean to.”

The bot remained silent, turning its arm towards Steve.

“Fine, ignore me.”

Steve’s eyes kept darting between the two. They shone with something that might have been laughter. But it just as easily could have been emotional distress at being caught between Tony’s and Dummy’s argument. Tony didn’t want to ask which. He couldn’t take either answer.

So he let the bot have its sulk.

They eventually managed to carefully lower Dummy to the ground. Immediately, the bot rolled away and waited at the workshop door, pawing at it like a cat.

Steve stared after Dummy, “so… the bruise… what happened?”

Tony laughed, and prayed Steve couldn’t hear the strain in it, “oh, Dummy swung his claw in the car while I was driving and he caught me.”

The bot turned to face him. It gave a single loud honk at him.

“I know, Dummy, I know. Anyway, I better let him in. Thanks for your help, Steve.”

“Tony, can we- could we talk?”

Tony froze in spot, mid-stride to the workshop door. “About what?”

“About- about Siberia. And about… before that.”

“We don’t need to talk about it. It was my fault. I’m sorry Steve.” Tony walked swiftly to the workshop, ignoring Steve’s half-formed, mostly stuttered protests, and quickly shut himself and Dummy in.

He didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to think about Siberia. He just couldn’t. And he knew that made him a terrible person. But he didn’t want to think about the fight.

His eyes itched with the desperate incessant need to close them. But he needed to force them to stay open. He passed street lights and gas stations and tried to forget about Dummy’s plaintive whine as he left him in the workshop. He’d never left the bot alone like that.

But he couldn’t stay there.

Once he shoved every box and bag into a hidden corner, once Dummy’s charging station was set up and he said hello to You and Butterfingers and goodbye to Dummy, he left. There wasn’t any need for him to stay longer than he needed to.

July 8th 2017 – 11:56pm

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **10**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Tame Garden 
    * Go to Home Depot and pick up the gardening tools
  * Restock First Aid Kit
  * ********Finish the Accords (Changes made - only finished once Avengers approve)****
  * Set up private server at home 
    * Move documents off server in compound ~~~~
  * Sort out storage cupboard 
    * Toss out the shirts Ty hates.
  * Work on the prototypes
  * Set up Jarvis in his workshop and office 
    * Figure out how to integrate Jarvis and Friday together
    * Ensure Jarvis is restricted only to the office and workshop



Food Eaten:

  * Cups of Coffee x12 (4x black, no sugar) ~~~~
  * That’s… about it




	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter, particularly the end, makes strong reference to anorexia/bulimia/binge purge eating habits. If you are at all sensitive to this subject matter, I advise you skip the last paragraph in particular

#  ****Chapter 25 - Ginger** **

July 17th 2017 – 07:46am

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **7**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Tame Garden 
    * Go to Home Depot and pick up the gardening tools
  * ~~Restock First Aid Kit~~ ~~~~
  * ********Finish the Accords (Changes made - only finished once Avengers approve)****
  * Set up private server at home 
    * Move documents off server in compound ~~~~
  * Sort out storage cupboard 
    * Toss out the shirts Ty hates.
  * Work on the prototypes
  * Set up Jarvis in his workshop and office 
    * Figure out how to integrate Jarvis and Friday together
    * Ensure Jarvis is restricted only to the office and workshop



He dabbed concealer around his eyes. It was hard to tell where the bags ended and the bruises began. It was all shadowed purples and dark blues. At least the swelling had gone down, even if his eyes throbbed with every beam of light. Bloodshot - too bloodshot. He didn’t really have anything to fix that. At least he was able to throw a shirt over his chest and back. And concealer for his face.

Concealer didn’t provide enough coverage though. Foundation - liquid and powder - evened out the colouring but it still seemed so obvious to him. No one looks like this. He pinched his cheeks. He was so pale. Colour seeped in under his finger tips. He dabbed more powder onto the bruise, hissing as it got into the scab that was thankfully hidden by his hairline. Just about. He hurriedly dusted off the powder from his hair before checking his watch.

He could only hide in this bathroom for another thirteen minutes and eighteen seconds. He had to make sure no one saw him with bruises.

_They’ll take you off the team._

Tony shook his head, trying to dismiss the thought. Only Rhodey could take him off the team at the moment. And Rhodey wouldn’t do that.

_You sure about that?_

No. Rhodey might take him off the team. He’d say it was for Tony’s own good. But Tony knew the truth. He was too weak. He was going to get taken off the team. He couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t leave Rhodey and Peter alone out there.

_They don’t need you._

Tony pinched his cheeks again, trying to bring out some colour underneath the nearly translucent powder he’d coated his face in. He set some dark glasses on his face and tried to smile at his reflection.

_Pathetic._

In a word, yeah.

He’d stayed in that bathroom for just six minutes and three seconds. There was no point in hiding for longer. They were either going to know or not know. And it was better he got there before them, since he could barely walk in a straight line.

He was teetering on the edge of so many things. Maybe a migraine. But it might also be a concussion - not that he’d ask anyone professional to check. And he might be anaemic - he kept feeling dizzy whenever he stood up. Maybe he should take multi-vitamins.

He slumped down onto the table, face pressed against the tabletop. He’d chosen the nicest meeting room for the Accords talks. A big window at the end of the room which Tony really regretted since it let so much light in. A polished mahogany table standing grand in the center of the room which Tony was using as a not so comfy pillow. A mini fridge, filing cabinets, coffee pots, all tucked against the wall. The walls were a plain, clean white, decorated with hotel room art - bland, without any deeper meaning, and didn’t require a second look.

His phone buzzed under his hand but his head felt too heavy to lift. It wasn’t Ty. Ty would ring. This was probably just an email from Pepper who he could make excuses to later. He missed her.

Tony sighed. He let his eyes slip closed, cheek resting on his hand. Not asleep. He was too on edge. But just a moment of quiet. Of peace.

Last night hadn’t been peaceful.

Ty had been in a good mood. It was Tony’s fault. Ty was definitely in a good mood when he came home from work. He had finished early, he was whistling, he greeted Tony with a kiss on the cheek and a bouquet of the brightest bunch of cornflowers. He had been in a good mood.

Then he wasn’t.

A moment of peace was less than he deserved and more than he would dream of asking for.

Moments are so fleeting.

The door was open wide and in traipsed Clint. Tony lifted his head as the door, catching Clint’s look of disappointment as he locked eyes with Tony.

“Bit early to be drinking.”

So that’s the picture he painted. An alcoholic who couldn’t even make it to 9am without a drink.

_So lie. It’s better than the alternative._

But he didn’t lie. He just didn’t say anything to counter it either.

Natasha walked into the room, swiftly taking up her chair and glaring at Clint.

Best he didn’t ask. He shouldn’t get involved.

“Did you speak to her?”

“Shut it, Nat. Go deal with the drunk there.”

Natasha cast a cursory look at Tony before turning back to Clint, “you can’t keep putting this off Clint. You need to talk to her.”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Nat. Drop it.”

“Barton, you can’t do this to her.”

“To her? What about what she’s doing to me? She’s won’t even let me-” He cut him self off, both hands pushing down against the air in a final gesture that he wasn’t going to talk about whatever was happening any further. “Not now. Not here. Not with him,” the last word said like a curse word, something dirty and not for the ears of children.

Before Natasha could say another word of protest, Wanda walked in and dropped into the seat next to Clint. Sam and Scott followed in behind her; the former was chatting amicably to the latter, who clasped a cup of coffee to his chest and looked like he rolled out of bed five minutes ago.

A little envious, Tony looked at his own empty coffee mug. But even coffee couldn’t save him from the sleep deprivation this time around.

“What’s with the glasses?” Scott asked, taking a sip from his mug.

“Headache-”

“Oh, yeah, he’s hungover.”

"I stayed home with-" Should he mention Ty? Well, certainly not by name. But he didn't want them all prying into his life. And they definitely would. He decided not to finish the thought.

Thankfully, Clint finished it for him, "a bottle of scotch, right?" He laughed cruelly, loud enough to grate on all of Tony's senses. "Hit pretty hard."

"Yeah," Tony agreed, nodding along absently, "hit pretty hard."

Technically not a lie. The _wine bottle_ certainly hit hard. The wine was long gone before Tony could get to it. Ty was just doing him a favour though, really. Tony was stressed. He could easily fall back on an old crutch. So Ty drank the wine over dinner, a couple of large glasses. Not enough to get _drunk_ drunk. Just a little tipsy.

The room wasn’t just spinning any more. It was like someone had thrown it in a cocktail shaker and just wouldn’t. stop. shaking. How was it possible to get such bad feelings of motion sickness when he wasn’t even moving? He wanted a coffee - just one damn cup of coffee - but there was no way he could walk the three feet to the coffee pot for it. He would either fall flat on his face, or flat on his ass. He’d like neither, because his ribs were still aching from last night. No visible bruises yet, but the ache was constant background noise right now.

He heard a soft thunk next to his head. He lifted his head just enough to see the teal mug set down next to his hand. He reached for it slowly, trying not to anger the headache any more than he could.

The coffee was sinful. It was gold and decadence and worth coveting. The only false idol he’d ever worship. It was exactly the way he loved it: black with one sugar. He, honest to god, actually shivered a little on his first sip. So good! He actually couldn’t remember the last time he’d put sugar in his coffee. Unneeded calories. But tasted like heaven.

He murmured a thanks to whatever angel had deposited the mug on the table. Probably Rhodey.

“Sam, stop leaving coffee grounds in the disposal.”

Sam laughed a little, “C’mon Cap, why you gotta call me out like that man?”

Tony lifted his head, resting his chin on the table, “thanks, Steve. For the coffee.”

Steve smiled, twisted and uncomfortable, “it’s nothing.”

Rhodey walked in at Steve’s words, shooting Tony a look that asked “are you okay?”. At Tony’s nod, he sat down, twisting in his chair to look at Steve.

Now everyone was in the room, Tony swallowed against the nausea and sat up straight. Let’s get this show on the road.

He didn’t know how long they’d been at it. There were times he wasn’t even sure he remained conscious. They were arguing, always arguing.

“We can’t just disregard 117 countries. We need some form of oversight.” Rhodey tried to explain to an annoyed Sam.

“And how long until they start monitoring everything we do, everywhere we go!”

“It’s not one country though - it’s the goddamn UN that wants us to have some form of restriction.”

Tony was pretty sure he’d seen this film before. With the same dialogue, same actors. He knew the ending, didn’t care for it. So he interrupted. Skipped ahead. Changed the scene.

“As clause 5 of section 4, subsection 2 states, we oversee each other. It’s not the US government monitoring us. It’s not any government monitoring us. It’s teams of superheroes from all over the world. Who have fought battles we’ve fought, who have seen what we’ve seen. Because if the safest hands are our own, then at least have more hands. Get more view points from all over the world. And from people who understand, who _truly_ understand, what we do and what we’re up against.”

Clint rolled his eyes, “but how do we know that they’re the good guys?”

“How do we know we are?” Tony shot back.

The room fell into a stilted silence.

Tony took a deep breath. “We need to trust our own instincts.” God, he didn’t believe a word he was saying. He certainly didn’t believe his own instincts. Well, none except one. The world needed the Avengers and he’d do whatever he could to keep them. “We can’t shift the blame. We are responsible for our own actions. And the other teams will be as well. But we need some form of boundaries, we need some way to be put in check. And we need to trust someone, or several some ones, to do it. No one person can make decisions for the team this way, and no one team can make a decision for the world. Boundaries,” Tony kept his eyes on Steve, trying to gauge his reaction, “that we keep safe in our own hands.”

Steve nodded solemnly, “it’s a good idea, but how to we even begin to find these teams for a global response?”

Tony opened up his phone and projected a map of the world. All over, red pins dotted every continent. Some major cities had multiple pins. Global. Every enhanced individual that had ever been reported, all the information he could find on them - city they were based in, powers, abilities, any public information on them - and all the teams that had sprung up from these groups were dotted with blue pins. Japan, Australia, Wakanda, Britain, Canada, and the East and North of the USA were all dotted with blue pins, more spread out over Europe, Asia, and Africa.

“We don’t need to, Captain. They’re out there waiting.”

“And how can we trust them?”

“How do we trust anyone? We open a dialogue, talk to them, see where they stand on the things important to us.”

“So we’d interview them?”

Tony nodded, even though it set the room spinning all over again. He could feel his light headedness catching up fast. “Yes, at least initially. After a while, the teams themselves would manage their own. We would interfere less on a day to day basis with each individual team.”

“You’ve really thought this all through, huh?” Sam asked, idly flipping through the accords.

Tony shrugged, “I didn’t come up with the accords-” not technically a lie, he didn’t come up with the _original_ accords, and anything since were amendments, not the accords themselves, “-nothing to do with me, I’m retiring after all,” Tony reminded them.

“Then why do you care so much?” Clint asked, “it doesn’t affect you. None of your business, right?”

Tony shrugged, “I’m just here because Ross arranged for me to be here.”

“Only in it for the paycheck,” Clint laughed cruelly, “to fund your party lifestyle, I’ll bet.” Wanda snickered. Clint shot her a grin, playing it up for his audience. “turn up to work drunk. True professional right there. Why did Ross even bother with you? We certainly shouldn’t have to put up with you.”

Tony looked down at his papers, tapping them against the tabletop so they arranged a neat stack in his hands.

“Clint,” a single syllable of scolding, “that’s enough. You can’t keep-”

“Can’t keep what, Cap? Blaming Tony? It’s not blame when it’s his fault. What did he say, we can’t shift the blame? Well, I damn well won’t. I’m not shifting it off him, it’s his fault we’re in this mess.”

Steve’s chair clattered to the floor behind him, as Barnes’ skidded back into the filing cabinets. Steve looked furious. If anger was a colour this wasn’t red. It was something more. It was yellow and green; a sickness, an illness that they passed from one to each other. Barnes had grabbed hold of Steve’s shoulders, holding him back.

Clint scoffed at Steve, a red flag to an angry bull, “what, it’s not like you don’t agree. Didn’t he lie to us so he could go catch you in Siberia?”

Barnes shook his head adamantly, as both Sam and Steve protested.

“He went out there to help,” Sam yelled over the noise, “he wanted to help Barnes.”

“He did come to help,” Steve agreed, trying to shake Barnes off him, “and then I-”

But Steve cut himself off, shooting Tony an anxious look.

Tony knew. Even now, he knew what Steve wanted with a look. Steve knew this wasn’t his tale alone to share. He wanted permission to share it.

But Tony wasn’t ready.

Even if it painted him as the bad guy.

He wasn’t ready for everything that would follow. Because they wouldn’t turn on Steve, their friend and leader. He was their unshakable moral compass who guided them through the morally grey. Their war hero from another era who was a veteran at fights like this. Their saviour from imprisonment at the Raft.

Tony was the opposite of Steve. His moral compass was broken. He wasn’t a war hero, he was a war profiteer. And he was their captor, their prison guard.

And it wouldn’t matter to them that Tony’s parents had died a couple of decades ago to Barnes’ Hydra controlled hand. It wouldn’t matter that that scar for Tony had been reopened in what he could only imagine as the cruellest way. Because they were his scars alone. He wasn’t ready to reopen them all over again.

So he shook his head almost imperceptibly at Steve. Natasha’s eyes flicked to him for just a second and then back to Clint and Steve. She never missed a thing, never found herself off beat.

“Then you what?” Clint pushed.

“Then he realised I lied to you all, and was there to take Barnes into custody,” Tony said, keeping his face as blank as he could.

The room exploded into yelling. Steve was trying to stick up for him through all the noise, pleading with them to make them believe Tony was lying. Sam was shouting about betrayal, how he trusted Tony to help. Clint was exclaiming how he knew it all along, how Tony was a traitor. Wanda saying how none of them should be surprised. Rhodey was trying to argue back that Tony was just following the law. Scott was just yelling for someone to pass him a cookie from the plate in the center of the table, perfectly happy to let everything else pass him by.

But Natasha sat there. Watching Tony. She ignored the others and kept her eyes locked on him. Every movement, every second.

He hated having eyes on him.

They were still fighting over it all when they broke for lunch. Tony managed to slip away, ducking into the gym to take a breather. His headache was spreading, vision starting to spot with white and blues as he sat down with his head between knees. He prayed to whatever entity was looking out for him that he’d be able to make it through the day.

“You’re looking a little green.”

Tony looked up, a shade too fast that he had to close his eyes. Natasha was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and her face unreadable. He tested the waters a little with his next words.

“Sorry, wild night last night.”

“Liar.”

Tony flinched, “sorry.”

“Why are you letting Clint believe that?” her voice was dangerously neutral, falsely free of judgement.

But he couldn’t figure out what angle she was playing. She was going to know if he was lying anyway. So he told the truth. Or at least one of the truths.

“Easier to let him think what he wants.”

Because that was the thing. There was no one singular truth. There were many. And one of the reasons he’d let Clint believe he was drunk was it was just easier to to let Clint say whatever he wanted. But the other side of it was that he didn’t want to explain what actually happened. There would be so much to explain. He’d need to come out. He’d need to talk about Ty. And then he’d need to explain their relationship. Because they wouldn’t get it. Sometimes Ty got a little mad and that was fine. They were in a relationship and sometimes people say and do things they don’t mean. Ty apologised, so it was fine.

“And why did you lie about Siberia?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not Clint, Tony. I don’t swallow whatever lie you tell me to get me to hate you and then beg for more. You went to Siberia for a reason. And it wasn’t to catch Steve.”

“I went to talk to him. I found out Barnes was innocent.”

Natasha nodded, satisfied with his answer. “And what made it all go to shit?”

“That was my fault. I lashed out.”

She frowned at him, “funny, Steve says it’s all his fault.”

“It was definitely me.”

She sighed and walked over to stand in front of him. “But what happened?”

“Do we- can we not talk about this right now?”

He didn’t want to think about Siberia. Why did everyone always want to talk about Siberia and Steve and Barnes? He just wanted to forget it, like vestiges of a nightmare he’d finally woken up from.

Natasha hummed slightly, thinking. “Okay. But have you talked it over with _someone_?”

“Yeah.”

He didn’t give her a name. But she must have known the truth in his answer because she didn’t press.

“Have you eaten yet? If you’re feeling ill, you might want to eat something,” she suggested, “keep your strength up.”

Tony waved her off with a vague gesture, “I had coffee, I’m fine.”

She rolled her eyes, but again she didn’t press. Tony was a grown man after all. He should know how to manage his eating habits.

 _She thinks you’re pathetic_ that little voice whispered, _man-child._

They sat in silence for a while. Natasha scrolled through her phone, crunching an apple she had pulled from her pocket. She offered Tony one as well but he declined. Instead, he pulled out his own phone, checking to see why it buzzed earlier.

A new message. From Instagram. From _Took.All.The.Stupid.With.Me_

It read: _Hi Cook, how are you? I’m sorry if I’m bothering you. I wanted to make sure you’re okay, since you haven’t posted in a while._

Tony checked through his posts. Surely, it hadn’t been that long. Except it had. About two weeks. He used to post daily, or at least every other day. But things had been difficult with… well, everything was difficult right now.

 _Sorry, I’ll try to post something soon,_ Tony replied.

And he received a reply almost instantly, _You don’t have to, I wanted to make sure you were okay._

Tony smiled a little, _I’m a little under the weather at the moment. Been sick lately._

_I’m sorry to hear that. A colleague of mine is ill - well, he’s not really a colleague, or I guess he is but colleague seems overly familiar - do you have any advice on how to help?_

Tony let out a low whistle, Natasha’s head perking up at the sound.

“What is it?”

“A friend of mine has a, well it seems like a complicated relationship with someone. He’s asking me how to help them.”

“Help with what?”

“They’re ill, apparently.”

Natasha thought for a moment, “well, if they’ve been sick, anything with ginger helps. Peppermint tea helps with bloating. Chamomile tea for stress. Otherwise, rest, water, and make sure they taken any needed medication.”

_A friend of mine recommends ginger if they’ve been sick. Peppermint tea and chamomile tea for bloating and stress respectively. Then some R &R._

_Thank you. I will ensure I put your advice to good use._

_Your relationship with your colleague seems complicated. Is it office politics?_

_No._

_Don’t want to talk about it?_

_I don’t know._

_Well, depending on the situation, it might be worth talking to your colleague. It could all be a huge misunderstanding._

_It’s not that. But I appreciate your advice. Thank you._

_More complicated than that? I hope you get things sorted. Or are at least okay?_

Three dots appeared on screen for quite a while. Typing, typing, typing. Then they disappeared. In the next moment, three words appeared on screen.

 _I will be._ Followed by _I have to be._

 _You don’t have to be_ , Tony tried to reassure, _I’m not the one to say this, but it’s okay to not be okay._

Tony didn’t get a response after that.

“We should head back,” she offered her hand to help Tony up. Tony took it and let himself be hauled onto his feet.

Wrong decision.

The world tilted on its axis, and the room flipped upside down, and he heard the dull clang of metal and Natasha quickly kicked a bin under him as he emptied his stomach. The bin liner was splattered with his vomit, as watery and weak as it was. He’d been in a rush that morning: he’d forgotten breakfast. When he pulled himself up, he caught Natasha’s grimace as she wiped the tip of her boot with a tissue.

“I am so sorry, I can replace them, I will- Pepper knows more about shoes than me, I can ask her to help me find a replacement for them.”

Natasha quickly schooled her face into something more passive, a gentle hand on Tony’s arm. “It’s okay, she reassured. You barely got me. I’m just glad I got the bin in time. No harm done.”

“I know but still-”

“Are you okay?” She cut him off, hand reaching for his forehead.

Tony flinched away. He knew it was just her trying to check his temperature. He knew that. But that didn’t stop the sudden feeling of alarm that shot through every nerve as he saw her hand coming closer.

She didn’t move her hand away though. She moved it closer, speaking softly. “I just want to check your temperature. I think you might have the flu.”

He let her rest the back of her hand on his forehead for a second, before pushing it away. “It’s not the flu, I’m fine.”

“You just threw up.”

“That’s just… stress?”

“Nope, not buying it.”

“We should head back.”

“You’re coming with me.”

She linked her arm in his and marched him from the room.

They made their way down corridors, and slowly Tony realised she was leading him to her room.

“Nat, I-”

“Tony,” her voice was tinged with a little scolding, which made him feel about a half inch tall, “you need to rest. If you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong, fine. But you need to rest. Don’t think you can hide those bags behind sunglasses.”

Tony’s hand shot to press the glasses more onto his face.

Natasha tutted, “I don’t know where your room is-”

“I don’t have one.”

“-so you’re going to sleep off whatever headache, stomach bug, or flu you’ve got in my room.”

“Migraine,” Tony admitted.

“How’s your field of vision?”

“Can barely see,” Tony said reluctantly, “I’m mostly following your lead. Thanks for not walking me into any doors.”

“You’re welcome.”

“But I can’t sleep it off, I need to get back into the-”

“The meeting room? I don’t think so. You’re going to rest.”

“But Clint-”

“Let me deal with Clint. And Wanda and Steve, and everyone else. You look awful. Not even in a polite way. You look like you’re about to collapse. Go. To. Bed.”

She gently manoeuvred him into her room.

“I can’t. General Ross hasn’t-”

“What Ross doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Now, go to sleep.”

“Why are you doing this, Nat? What do you get out of this?” He asked, narrowing his eyes.

There had to be an angle. There _had_ to be. Maybe she was going to derail the accords. Maybe she just wanted him out of the picture. Maybe she was sick of him being in the same room and she just wanted an afternoon without him talking.

But for a microsecond, a nanosecond, Tony could have sworn she looked hurt by his words. As quick as the expression was there, it was gone again. Passive. But this time, guarded too.

“I get a friend who isn’t going to end up dead from overworking himself, okay?” she said, but her voice had a snap to it.

“It’s just a migraine, I’ve worked with worse.”

“That’s not a good thing. Now, go to bed, or I’ll set Friday on you.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“You’re right. But _please_ rest.”

Tony threw his hands up in the air and sat at the end of her bed, “fine. But only for an hour, then I’m coming back.”

Natasha nodded and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, “I know things are tough right now, but we’ll get there.”

“Nat,” Tony said sadly, “there isn’t a ‘we’ in this.”

She ruffled his hair, before turning to leave, “doesn’t play nice with others,” she sing-songed at him.

“You’re fired,” he called after her.

Her head popped out from the door frame, “that’s not up to you though, is it?”

Tony let himself laugh, Natasha shutting the door after her.

The room was dark, nearly pitch black. He rooted through Natasha’s linen closet and pulled out a wine red blanket. Wrapping it around himself, he fell face first onto the bed. Bad decision, ribs aching all the more, but he curled up under the blanket.

“Friday?”

“Yes boss?”

“Could you wake me up every half hour? And ask me my name, my age, and a random trivia question about any of the Avengers?”

“Of course boss.”

“If I get any of them wrong, could you please ask Natasha to come? Don’t mention why though.”

“Yes boss.”

Tony closed his eyes and sleep finally caught him.

“What is your name?”

“Anthony Edward Stark.”

“How old are you?”

“47 years old.”

“What is Agent Romanoff’s favourite flavour of Lays?”

“Paprika.”

“What is your name?”

“Tony Stark.”

“How old are you?”

“565 and a half months.”

“What monopoly piece does Miss Maximoff prefer to play as?”

“The thimble.”

“What is your name?”

“Tony.”

“How old are you?”

“17204 days old.”

“What is Agent Barton allergic to?”

“Certain black dyes.”

“What is your name?”

“Depends who you ask - Tones to Rhodey, Stark to Fury, asshole to Clint, murderer to Wanda. But birth name is Anthony.”

“How old are you?”

“Forty-seven.”

“How many arm wrestles has Senior Airman Wilson lost to Sergeant Barnes?”

“... All of them.”

“What is your name?”

“Still Tony.”

“How old are you?”

“Still Forty-seven.”

“What is Captain Rogers’ secret talent?”

“Define secret,” Tony prompted, “it has to be one I’d know right? So does this mean it’s one only I know?”

“I’m afraid, in this case Boss, it’s a secret both you and Sergeant Barnes’ know.”

Tony sighed. Of course. “In that case, I suppose it must be his art. It’s not like he displays it anywhere and he doesn’t like to talk about it much. I imagine Barnes knows too since they share a room.”

“That’s correct Boss.”

Tony pulled his knees to his chest, the blanket pooling at his feet. Something about that hurt. But he was being stupid. Possessive, even. Steve moved on. _Tony_ moved on.

But there were things Steve knew that Tony had never told anyone else. That he probably wouldn’t tell anyone else.

And now, Steve had pieces of Tony that he could never get back. And all the pieces he had of Steve were only ever on loan and had been returned to their rightful owner.

Tony wished he could get those pieces back. But he had chosen to leave them with Steve. He was to blame for that.

A whiff of a scent caught his attention. It smelled inviting. A hint of Christmas, and a hint of home. Tony glanced around the room, looking for a candle or air freshener.

On the bedside table, there was a plate of cookies. Tony picked them up, inhaling the warm scent. The cookies themselves were still warm: freshly baked if Tony had to guess. They smelled like sugar and ginger. A cup of tea sat next to it, the colour a dark green-brown. The tea was lukewarm. Tony drank it swiftly, not wishing for it to go to waste.

Peppermint.

It tasted a little bit like breath mints but somehow more earthy. A natural flavour.

He bit into the cookies. They snapped satisfyingly, each cookie having a delightful crunch.

Ginger snaps.

Tony ate and drank happily, the food settling comfortably in his aching stomach. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten something so good.

Under the plate, in handwriting he didn’t recognise, was a note.

_I hope you feel better. Get well soon._

Tony pocketed the note, and wrapped the remaining cookies in a clean handkerchief, reminding himself to thank Natasha for the cookies. He didn’t know Natasha baked. But, after all, who else could it be?

The journey home had been rough. Not as rough as the journey to the compound albeit, but still. His head was still pounding, and his stomach still rolling. By the time he landed in front of his house, retroreflector panels rendering him invisible, he needed to throw up in the gutter.

Prepared to just shower and get into bed, Tony stepped on the scales out of habit.

He stared at the number on the little LED screen, lurid in it’s value.

Three pounds. He’d managed to lose three pounds in a day. He was lucky if he lost three in a week most times. It wasn’t like he’d done any extra exercise, or eaten any less than normal.

Except.

He hadn’t really eaten. Well, he had but… He managed to get rid of it, didn’t he? This could… this could work. He could eat and then get rid of it.

He opened up his phone, and began reading through online forums. There was tonnes of advice on how to throw up safely.

Small bites, small meals, chew well. Take multivitamins. Drink lots of water.

He could do this.

He flipped open the toilet lid and pressed his fingers to the back of his throat. He retched, once, twice, before what little was left in his stomach came up.

He stepped back on the scales and another half pound had been purged from him.

He opened up his food diary, and marked the ginger snap cookies with a little asterisk. He should probably keep tabs of the food he keeps in him and the food that he gets rid of.

His teeth had caught on his knuckles, rubbing them sore. He’d need to find a better way than using his fingers - a cleaner way. He didn’t want to have to clean under his nails all the time.

But this could work.

He felt cleaner.

The noise in his head subsided.

This would work.

July 17th 2017 – 06:32pm

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **4**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Tame Garden 
    * Go to Home Depot and pick up the gardening tools ~~~~ ~~~~
  * ********Finish the Accords (Changes made - only finished once Avengers approve)****
  * Set up private server at home 
    * Move documents off server in compound ~~~~
  * Sort out storage cupboard 
    * Toss out the shirts Ty hates.
  * Work on the prototypes
  * Set up Jarvis in his workshop and office 
    * Figure out how to integrate Jarvis and Friday together
    * Ensure Jarvis is restricted only to the office and workshop



Food Eaten:

  * Cups of Coffee x2 (1x black, no sugar, 1x black, one sugar)
  * 2 large ginger snap cookies*




	26. Chapter 26

#  ****Chapter 26 - Hell in a Handbasket** **

July 21st 2017 – 10:15am

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **3**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Tame Garden 
    * Go to Home Depot and pick up the gardening tools ~~~~
  * ********Finish the Accords (Changes made - only finished once Avengers approve)****
  * Set up private server at home 
    * Move documents off server in compound ~~~~
  * Sort out storage cupboard 
    * Toss out the shirts Ty hates.
  * Work on the prototypes
  * Set up Jarvis in his workshop and office 
    * Figure out how to integrate Jarvis and Friday together
    * Ensure Jarvis is restricted only to the office and workshop



They weren’t getting anywhere. They never did. It had been weeks of daily talks. Everyone was constantly fighting over ever little thing. Tony didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to make it stop. He was so tired of everything small insignificant detail being worth a fight.

He was just tired in general.

Ty had been… well, it doesn’t matter, they were just nightmares.

He shifted in his seat, trying to ease the pain.

“Should we take a break? Maybe grab some coffee?” Tony suggested.

And he couldn’t help the tentative tone in his voice. He hated himself for that. The halting jerking way he asked. He hated himself because he knew it would lead to this.

“A break? Of course, _his highness_ wants a break - can’t stand to do any actual work for more than five minutes. Why don’t you fucking leave?! You’re not doing anything anyway!”

“Neither are you,” Sam pointed out, “you’re just finding problems, at least Stark is trying to find solutions.”

“I’m finding problems with his solutions, not that that’s difficult.”

“Yeah but we don’t want to be here all night,” Natasha let her head fall on the desk. “You’re being impossible.”

“I’m trying to make sure we don’t leave until this is done.”

“Some of us,” Scott said under-breath, “want to go home and see our families tonight.”

Clint’s fist hit the table, “HE CAN WAIT! WE GAVE UP A YEAR OF OUR LIVES FOR THIS BULLSHIT.”

“Some of us,” Wanda added quietly, “don’t get to have families to go back to.”

“Look,” Steve tried to reason, “this isn’t anyone’s idea of fun Friday night.”

“What do you mean, Cap?” Clint gave him a shark-toothed grin, “this is totally the dream.”

“More like a nightmare,” Wanda chimed in.

“It’s fine,” Tony tried to backtrack, unable to get his voice loud enough to be heard, “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Clint and Wanda steam-rolled over him.

“What’s your worst nightmare then, Wanda?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’d have to say being trapped in a room with the man who murdered my parents and got my brother killed.”

Barnes flinched in his seat. Steve cast a sympathetic look at Tony but Tony couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t look at Barnes either. Because all three of them knew that Tony knew exactly what it felt like to be trapped in a room with his parents’ murderer. Instead he met Wanda’s unflinching gaze. Her eyes burnt red. For a moment, a single moment, Tony wasn’t in that meeting room.

_He was in an apartment, two small children hiding under the bed. A boy and a girl. The walls were crumbling plaster, and the floor dusty with rubble. And at his feet sat a bomb with his name on it._

_The bomb was so close to those children, a matter of inches. He was afraid to move; even a single step, a creak in the floorboards, could set the bomb off. Bring the building down._

_A brick fell from a floor above, landing with a deafening crash. The room seemed to shake with it. The children under the bed flinched, clinging to each other._

_He knew what he’d been capable of. He knew what would happen if that bomb went off._

_But he knew that he never sold anything to anyone fighting with Sokovia. Obadiah Stane was a sin he could never be absolved of. A mistake that left a bloodstain on his work. Calling it a mistake made it sound so trivial, inconsequential._

_The apartment was in ruins but these two children hid under a bed, clinging to a small picture._

_Tony hadn’t just killed Wanda’s and Pietro’s parents. He’d killed Pietro, who never would have died if it wasn’t for him and the life he’d forced them into. He had left Wanda orphaned, without anyone to turn to, no chance of any kind of normal life._

_He killed both those children that day._

“Wanda, Tony had nothing to do with it,” Steve tried to cut in. “Tony didn’t kill your-”

But she continued, oblivious to them. Her ire locked onto Tony. “I’m stuck in here with my worst nightmare. I think you should be stuck here with yours.”

Before anyone could stop her, before anyone could grab her hands, she fired. Like a bolt of lightning, red streaked across the room, the air around it seemed to hiss in displeasure. It hit Tony between the eyes and for a moment all he could see was red.

_It was like a bad dream. The red lifted and he could still see the meeting room. It might be fairer to say he was still aware of the meeting room. But he couldn’t see it, not really. He wasn’t there. All of their eyes were on him. All of their voices were around him. Steve’s demands to get Wanda to stop, Peter’s concerned cautious call of “Mr Stark” and even Clint’s worried question of “What are you doing?” at Wanda._

_He could hear it all. He could see it all. But all he could feel was Ty’s hand around his throat._

Fake. It was fake. Just a nightmare, like Wanda said. Like Ty said, this never happened. Fake.

_He could hear the Avengers. But they weren’t really there. Because this was all a nightmare and he’d woken up in his room with Ty on top of him. The meeting room wasn’t really there. Because all he could see was a wall he needed to repaint._

_But Ty’s hands, his very fingerprints, were tattooed into him. He could feel the ink of them soak into his blood. Toxic._

He gripped the table, fingers shaking with intensity and force as he tried to anchor himself into that meeting room. This was just a very bad dream. The room was just a very bad dream.

_Ty’s lips on his neck as he continued to stare at the wall. Ty’s body pressing against his. Into his. Stare at the wall. Because that wall is disgusting. It’s dirty. It needs to be cleaned. It needs repainting. It was so flawed, he needed to fix the wall._

“Wanda, fucking stop it! This is too far!”

He could see Clint grabbing her, trying to hold her hands still and moving to block her eye-line, stop her looking at Tony. But the red in her eyes only grew darker, her hatred more intense.

_Focus on the wall. Not the spots of blood that stained the sheets the next morning. Focus on the wall. Not the scent left on the pillows that made you gag. Focus on the wall._

This isn’t real. This _isn’t_ real.

_Don’t focus on how you didn’t want it. You didn’t want it. You didn’t want it._

_Right? You didn’t want it. But Ty said- there was moaning and panting and performance, right? Was that all it was? A performance?_

_Did you want it?_

And all at once, he was snapped back into the meeting room. Sweat was beading down the side of his face, leaving molten trails across iced skin.

He wanted to scratch his skin off.

He felt so unclean.

He wanted to throw up.

Someone touched his shoulder. Too close, too close to his neck. Ty’s hands were around his neck. He grabbed Ty’s wrist, bending it back and slamming him into the table. He leaned across Ty’s back, keeping him pressed against the wood. The whole room fell silent.

Tony’s hands were shaking. His body wasn’t his. He was an imposter, an interloper here. He wasn’t his own.

He bent Ty’s arm back further.

“Tony, hey it’s me, it’s okay,” a hurried voice tried to reassure. Ty’s hand was waving, the universal back off sign, but Tony couldn’t back off. Ty’s hands were on his throat even as he had him pinned down. But the people around him took a hasty step back.

Like a siren’s call, luring him to rocks, he could hear a voice out on the ocean he was adrift in.

“Tony, can you hear me? It’s okay, you’re safe. You’re-”

He released the arm with a start. Rhodey stood up from where he’d been pressed into the table, rolling his shoulders to ease the pain of having his arm bent back. When he turned to Tony, his eyes were wide: questioning and surprised.

“You’re okay, Tony,” Rhodey reassured, “you didn’t hurt me. Just surprised. You okay?”

Tony couldn’t track what had happened. He could still feel Ty’s touch all over his skin. Although that touch had never been there at all - all just a nightmare - so he couldn’t understand the sensations imprinted onto his skin. Everyone was talking at him, too loud, a cacophony of demands for explanations and accusations and apologies and defences of actions.

He could feel Ty’s fingers on his hips. Lips on lips. He closed his eyes but all he could see was that wall.

Rhodey reached out, maybe just to touch his arm, maybe to restrain him, Tony didn’t know. He was gone before he could find out. Gone before anyone could stop him.

He’d made it to the bathroom. Far away from the meeting room. A different one to the one he told them to use. He didn’t want them to have to use the same one he used. It was already too much asking them to be in the same room as him.

He wasn’t entirely sure which corridor he’d run down.

He’d emptied his stomach - nothing but coffee - and flushed away the evidence of his contamination.

“Friday, don’t tell anyone where I am.”

He couldn’t go back out yet. Sinking down to the floor, he pulled out his phone.

He only had one number he could dial any more.

“You’ve reached the voicemail of Tiberius Stone, please leave a message after the beep.”

“Hey Ty, it’s me.” Tony let out the breath he’d been holding. Even hearing Ty’s recorded voice loosened the knot of anxiety somewhere in him. “You were right. They all hate me.” He felt so pathetic. A child hiding in the bathroom to avoid the school yard bullies. “They have good reason to. I just- you were right, I wanted things to go back to how they were- I’m such an idiot, things can’t go back. You tried to tell me so many times. I’m sorry, I should have listened. I love you so so much. I’m so glad I have you. You’re all I need. I’ll see you soon. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

Tony hung up the phone and pulled his knees to his chest, hugging them. He let his head fall to his knees as he tried to breathe.

He didn’t go back to the meeting room. He knew he needed to apologise to Rhodey but there were too many people, they would all be staring, they’d all see him, they’d see how weak and pathetic he was, nightmares of his own conjuring.

He was pathetic.

How had he ever thought he could be an Avenger?

The others knew the truth before he did. He was never up to scratch.

But something in him wasn’t letting him go home either. He was caught in limbo, stuck and unable to move.

He could hurt them. He could hurt _Ty._ All because he couldn’t keep a grip on his nightmares.

He unlocked the door and peered out, trying to get his bearings.

He was somewhere in the basement, near his workshop and the garage, he could tell that much. The bathroom he’d used was tiny. It felt cramped, but maybe that was only because Tony had wedged himself under the sink.

“Friday?”

“Yes Boss,” she answered dutifully.

“Is everyone... no one is on this floor, right?”

“That’s correct, Boss.”

“And Rhodey… is he… I didn’t hurt him, did I?”

“Colonel Rhodes appears physically healthy, however his heart rate appears elevated.”

“Is that… that’s my fault, isn’t it?”

“It appears to be caused by a combination of factors, Boss. Colonel Rhodes is currently trying to break into your office, as he assumes you’re in there. The fact he cannot get in and you aren’t responding appears to be causing him some emotional distress.”

“Can you… can you tell him where I am? No, wait, can you ask him to meet me in the workshop? Just him. I can’t… I don’t want to… I just want to see Rhodey.”

“Shall I send him a text, Boss?”

Tony nodded, pressing his head back against his knees. “Can you make sure the others don’t follow him? Lock doors if you need to.”

“Yes Boss.”

“Thanks Friday.”

Rhodey was with him in the next ten minutes. They were sat together at the back of the workshop, hidden from sight by benches and boxes. Rhodey was shoulder to shoulder with him, leg to leg. The only way they’d be closer would be in Rhodey sat on him. Tony was glad it didn’t come to that.

“I am so sorry Rhodey. I didn’t mean- I never meant to hurt you,” Tony tried to explain.

Rhodey hushed him, pulling Tony’s head onto his shoulder, “hey, don’t you think I know that? You would never try to hurt me.”

“But I did-”

“I told you, it didn’t hurt.”

“I slammed you face first into a table.”

“Which startled me, and sure, I ache a bit, but I’m not _hurt._ ”

“You don’t need to spare my feelings, Rhodey.”

“I’m not, I-”

“James,” Tony cut him off.

Rhodey fell silent, a look disquiet settling on his face. Tony _never_ used his first name.

“I’m sorry. I know I hurt you. How can I fix this?”

Rhodey shook his head, “you don’t need to apologise, man. I’m fine, no permanent damage. You wanna fix this, then look after yourself.”

Tony frowned at him, “I am.”

“I mean properly. You were sick on Monday. You’re pushing yourself too hard, Tones. You haven’t taken a day off in months.”

“We all get weekends off.”

“Funny, I could have sworn you’ve been sending me and Pep emails about work on weekends at ungodly hours.”

Tony shrunk down where he was sitting, sliding down the wall. “I can’t sleep sometimes, okay.”

Rhodey sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

_You’re annoying him. Your best friend. He’s going to hate you._

“You need sleep, Tony. You _need_ it.”

_See. He hates you already._

“It’s not like I’m not trying,” Tony snapped back.

Except, maybe that was a little bit of a lie. He only slept when Ty was there to lay next to him. Ty usually worked maybe three or four night shifts a week. So at least Tony was getting sleep three nights a week. He used to try on the nights without him. At first he couldn’t because of nightmares.

Now though, he wasn’t sure. He just lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Unable to close his eyes. Unable to relax enough. Waiting for something. What, he didn’t know.

So instead of waiting, he decided to work. Sometimes work out. Most times, read and reread and read the accords again.

“Do you have a room here?”

Tony shook his head, “I’m not meant to be here long term, Rhodey. I’m out the moment I can be.”

Rhodey nodded, but he pursed his lips. Tony was so familiar with that look. He thought Tony was making a bad decision. But he knew he couldn’t change Tony’s mind. So he just had to let it play out. And he’d keep quiet about it. Because he knew that if Tony knew how much he disagreed with the decision, when it all blew up in Tony’s face, Tony wouldn’t come to him because of the inevitable ‘I told you so’ that would hang between them.

_You’re so petty. Your friend can’t even voice his opinion around you. When are you going to stop thinking you know best? When are you going to stop being so arrogant? You never change. Never._

“You’ve got one though, right?”

“What do you mean, ‘right?, as if you don’t know’? You designed it.”

“Yeah, so if I ever need to crash, I’ll use your room,” Tony compromised, “if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course it is.” Rhodey got to his feet, offering his hand to Tony.

Tony eyed it with caution, “you’re sure I didn’t hurt you?”

Rhodey rolled his eyes and grabbed Tony’s hand as proof, hauling him bodily to his feet. A quick hug and Rhodey was gone, promising to bring Tony down some dinner.

“Thanks, but don’t worry. I’m meant to be getting dinner with Ty.”

Rhodey nodded, buying into the palatable lie Tony served him. There was no dinner. Ty was on a night shift. He had too much to do to sleep.

July 21st 2017 – 20:59pm

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **3**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Tame Garden 
    * Go to Home Depot and pick up the gardening tools ~~~~
  * ********Finish the Accords (Changes made - only finished once Avengers approve)****
  * Set up private server at home 
    * Move documents off server in compound ~~~~
  * Sort out storage cupboard 
    * Toss out the shirts Ty hates.
  * Work on the prototypes
  * Set up Jarvis in his workshop and office 
    * Figure out how to integrate Jarvis and Friday together
    * Ensure Jarvis is restricted only to the office and workshop



Food Eaten:

  * Cups of Coffee x7 (7x black, no sugar)



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief Hiatus until December 11th as I have assignments and have to write a presentation in Japanese so like low key stressed. I'll try to have at least two chapters ready for you for the 11th, but if not you'll get at least one chapter :) 
> 
> Wish me luck! 🍀


	27. Chapter 27

#  ****Chapter 27 - Overdue** **

July 22nd 2017 – 03:33am

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **3**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Tame Garden 
    * Go to Home Depot and pick up the gardening tools ~~~~
  * ********Finish the Accords (Changes made - only finished once Avengers approve)****
  * Set up private server at home 
    * Move documents off server in compound ~~~~
  * ~~Sort out storage cupboard~~ ~~~~
    * ~~Toss out the shirts Ty hates~~. (keep them. They aren’t doing any harm in the cupboard.)
  * Work on the prototypes 
    * Reconfigure the field medic critical aid device ~~~~
    * Figure out how to increase the display quality on the projector without impacting cost per unit ~~~~
    * Email Pepper about the nanobot idea - could be used to help with open wounds
  * Set up Jarvis in his workshop and office 
    * Figure out how to integrate Jarvis and Friday together
    * ~~Ensure Jarvis is restricted only to the office and workshop~~ ~~~~



He’d managed to avoid Rhodey for the rest of the evening. And everyone else for that matter. Pretty easy to do when you keep your workshop door locked and the windows dark. No body was home as far as the outside was concerned.

Tony worked away quietly, picking his way through his prototypes. Music was soft in his ears, headphones blocking out the rest of the world. Just focus on the work and nothing else. If Jarvis needed him, he’d interrupt. But for now, he was in his own world. A world he’d pieced together and that made perfect sense to him.

He typed out the code, testing it with Jarvis first, then Friday. They should be able to talk to each other soon.

“Won’t that be nice, Jay? You’ll have a friend.”

“I already have you, sir.”

“Gonna make me blush.”

“Always my endeavour, sir,” Jarvis replied drolly.

“You and Friday better not get too friendly,” Tony chided, “workplace romances rarely work out.”

“Understood sir, I will ensure I keep my metaphorical hands off of Miss Friday’s code.”

“Oooh, don’t you talk about her code.”

“My apologies sir, I got carried away.”

Tony chuckled, entering the final line of coding and running the program in a safe mode beta. They’d both be disconnected from any functions external to the workshop for the next 40 minutes, but that shouldn’t matter. Tony honestly doubted anyone would be asking for Friday at 3am. And this way he could test out whether his two self-learning programs could learn off each other.

“Jarvis, do I still have coffee down here?”

“I’m afraid not, sir. The supplies were all moved to the kitchen after you moved out.”

“Friday?”

“Yes boss?”

“Can you start showing Jay the ropes around here? He knows most of the stuff, so focus on any changes from the last, what, year and half? Emphasis on people, security, and design.”

“Will do, boss.”

“Great, I’m going to get some coffee.”

“Oh, you’re still here,” and Tony could hear the surprise in Clint’s voice. It’s not a question, but it was phrased like one. Like he wasn’t really sure why Tony was here at 3:43am.

“Sorry, I just came to get-” Tony cut himself off, the argument from earlier still on his mind. He didn’t need a break, why had he come for coffee? He shouldn’t have bothered. Why wasn’t he going home? Ty was on the night shift - pulling a double to cover for a colleague - and wouldn’t be home until 8am. He could work at home. He planned to work until six, get Jarvis settled, and make it home before Ty. But that made no sense, why was he hanging around? “Sorry, I’ll just-” Tony was almost out the door before Clint spoke again.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry, what?” And he couldn’t hide the surprise in his voice. He didn’t understand at all. Why was Clint apologising at all?

“I shouldn’t have- It wasn’t your fault. Any of it.”

“What, no, I’m sorry, if I hadn’t-”

“No, man, don’t, don’t apologise, that’ll just make me feel worse.”

“Sor-” but Clint cut him off with a look.

“Just,” he ran a hand down his face, the other clasping a glass by it’s rim, “it wasn’t you, okay?”

Tony nodded and almost walked out the room. Almost. But he looked back at Clint and just… the man looked heartbroken. He was clinging to whatever was in that glass like his life depended on it. So he instead carried his coffee over to the couch and sat with Clint.

They sat in silence for a while. Tony wasn’t counting the minutes, but time seemed to pass slowly, like molasses being poured from a cup.

Eventually, Clint asked “What are you doing?”

“Should I go?”

Clint shook his head, “no but… I don’t understand you.”

Tony laughed, “that makes both of us. I don’t get what I’m doing here either. But hey,” he lifted the bottle of vodka Clint had tucked down by the coffee table in a mock toast, “it’s only alcoholism if you’re drinking alone.”

Clint snorted into his glass, splashing the vodka up into his face.

“Motto of my twenties,” Tony set the bottle back down, leaving it next to Clint’s ankle. “and thirties too, actually. But if you keep people around, it’s not so bad.”

“Yeah, well, I struggle with keeping people around.”

“Preaching to the choir.”

Clint stared down at the floor, “Laura and I separated. Well, I guess it’s more than that.”

“Divorce?” Tony asked, trying to somehow soften the word’s edges. But there wasn’t a way he could.

“Yeah,” Clint agreed, knocking back the last of the vodka in his glass.

Tony passed the bottle up, “Oh.”

“Yeah. While I was in Wakanda. Her divorce lawyer convinced her to get sole custody and… well, I wasn’t there to defend myself.”

Tony swallowed against the lump in his throat, “I’m sorry Clint, this whole mess is because of me. If you hadn’t had to get involved-”

Clint pinched Tony on the arm, the apology cut off with Tony’s confused ‘ow’.

“Don’t. Don’t apologise. None of this shit is on you.”

“But I-”

“No.” Clint was blunt in his reply, “I blamed you for- for such a long time. Until, what, like 12 hours ago. I blamed Steve for a while too, in Wakanda. I thought if you both hadn’t made those stupid Accords a thing, I wouldn’t have had to get involved. I would still have Laura. I’d still see the kids.” He looked close to crying as he leaned his head over the back of the sofa. “The thing is… I never had to get involved, did I? I retired. It was all my own choice. I could have just stayed out of it - it was a political issue, not a matter of life and death . When Steve called me, I didn’t even really ask what it was all about. I was just so ready to jump back in. I was bored. Laura’s right. She said I was impulsive, unreliable, I put her and the kids at risk, an adrenaline junkie. Not the kind of person who should be raising kids.”

“Clint, I- I don’t know what to say.”

“As long as it isn’t sorry…”

But God, the guilt felt like it was eating Tony alive. It was like maggots were spreading up his throat. He had to find a way to fix this - to at least allow Clint to see his kids. There had to be a way - make an appeal for visitation rights. There had to be something he could do.

Clint poured himself a new drink, taking a sip. “I… I don’t blame her. I was a lousy husband. I never put the family first. It was always this. It still is. She’s right - the kids don’t deserve that.”

“I’m-”

Clint punched Tony in the arm, “No apologies. Not from you.”

Tony nodded, rubbing the spot Clint punched him.

“I don’t know why I blamed you. Maybe I just didn’t want to face my own problems. I’m sorry I blamed you and generally acted like an asshole.”

“But why are you telling me this?” Tony shifted uncomfortably, “I never wanted an apology.”

“But you deserve one, and I felt like shit for how I’ve acted. Seeing what Wanda did to you, it was like for a second I heard it. I heard everything I said to you and God, I wouldn’t be able to stay in the same room as me. So yeah, you deserve an apology because I’m an asshole. And you’re getting an apology because I’m a little drunk right now.”

“Tolerating your booze like a champ though.”

They fell into a lull. Neither quite talking but neither quite quiet either. Just a moment of calm between them when the metaphorical eggshells weren’t breaking beneath Tony’s feet. They listened to the quiet hum of the air filtration unit somewhere above their heads; they watched as the clock’s hands ticked forward. It was quiet. It was a solitary eye in the storm of a life Tony had built for himself. But hey, at least it was never boring.

“I talked to Wanda. She went too far - I think even she knows that. She says she’ll apologise.”

Tony shook his head. For what he’d done to Wanda… he’d take the nightmares if it meant she slept easier, free of her own.

“She said something interesting though.”

Tony hummed in acknowledgement, waiting for Clint to finish the thought.

“She said that when she-” Clint mimed her weird hand gestures at Tony, “-she said she saw a wall.”

“Okay?”

“I guess,” Clint rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck, “what I’m trying to ask is are you okay? Why would a wall freak you out like that?”

Tony shrugged, “just a nightmare I keep having.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Just a nightmare,” Tony repeated more firmly, trying to keep his tone light and level.

Clint nodded, tapping the glass with his nails, “is that all it is?”

“Well, what else could it be? A wall is a weird thing to have nightmares over.”

“I don’t know,” Clint sighed, sinking into the sofa, “guess I just wanted to make sure you’re okay after everything today.”

“Of course,” Tony stood, picking up the vodka bottle with him. He set it just out of reach on the coffee table as Clint lay down to take Tony’s no longer occupied seat. “I’m always okay. Nightmares are just bad dreams anyway. They aren’t real.” Tony paused for a moment before adding in a whispered afterthought, “God would never give me more than I could handle.”

He really needed to believe that.

July 22nd 2017 – 04:02am

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **3**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**** ~~~~
  * Tame Garden 
    * Go to Home Depot and pick up the gardening tools ~~~~
  * ********Finish the Accords (Changes made - only finished once Avengers approve)****
  * Set up private server at home 
    * Move documents off server in compound
  * Work on the prototypes 
    * Reconfigure the field medic critical aid device
    * Figure out how to increase the display quality on the projector without impacting cost per unit
    * Email Pepper about the nanobot idea - could be used to help with open wounds
  * ~~Set up Jarvis in his workshop and office~~ ~~~~
    * ~~Figure out how to integrate Jarvis and Friday together~~ ~~~~



Food Eaten:

  * N/a - too early to eat anything




	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: on my word document, this chapter is 19 pages long.
> 
> Also just to clarify (though I hope it's clear) this chapter takes place over 5 days
> 
> TW/CW - Eating Disorders/Anorexia/Bulimia

#  ****Chapter 28 - Once bitten** **

July 24th 2017 – 04:02am

To do:

  * ******~~**Lose weight – at least**~~** ** ~~ **0**~~** ** ~~ **lbs (Goal Weight: 157lbs)**~~** ~~~~
  * Tame Garden 
    * ~~Go to Home Depot and pick up the gardening tools~~ ~~~~
  * ********Finish the Accords (Changes made - only finished once Avengers approve)****
  * Set up private server at home 
    * Move documents off server in compound
  * Work on the prototypes 
    * Reconfigure the field medic critical aid device 
      * Calibrate then run the test sequences to ensure accurate results
    * Figure out how to increase the display quality on the projector without impacting cost per unit 
      * Contact the suppliers to negotiate a better price on the fuses, copper wiring, and laser diodes
    * ~~Email Pepper about the nanobot idea - could be used to help with open wounds~~ ~~~~



He stared down at the number on the scales. 157 pounds exactly. He’d lost the amount he wanted to lose. Only… He thought he’d feel… different. Happier? But he didn’t feel happy. He stared at his reflection. He wanted to feel satisfied, but he didn’t. It wasn’t enough. He didn’t feel happy. Only disgusted with himself. It was like he could see every meal clinging to him; each calorie had an unrelenting grip on his body. He wasn’t happy. He was only happy whenever that number on the scale went down, but it was always so short lived. He needed it to go down, stay down, drop more and more. He turned, checking himself over in the mirror.

His stomach still bulged too much.

His ass was too big.

His arms too fat and his legs too thick.

It wasn’t muscle he was carrying, it was pure fat. He frowned at the mirror. He pinched at the skin until it hurt.

He would just have to lose more weight. But how much more? He couldn’t see much difference after 28 pounds, so he might as well try to lose the same again. Another 28 pounds couldn’t hurt him, after all. So new goal: 129 lbs.

Ty knocked on the door, “you about done in there, hun?”

“Yeah,” Tony pulled his bathrobe over himself, tying the belt tightly around his waist before opening the door.

“Awesome, I’m off today, so I thought we could do something together.”

“Oh,” Tony fiddled with the hem of the robe, “I’m working today. Monday. I’m really sorry. I’d love to do something together in the evening, I can-” he paused. He could try to finish early. He could endure the name-calling and petty jabs if it meant spending more time with Ty. “-try to get out sooner.”

“Can’t you just call in sick?”

“You know I can’t, that would be like you calling in sick.”

Ty rolled his eyes, “but my job is, y’know, actually important. Yours is just glorified paperwork.”

“I know, but I _have_ to go in. Just like you do.”

Ty scoffed, “whatever. Can’t believe you’d rather spend time with those liars than me.”

“I don’t, I’d rather spend time with you. I swear, Ty.”

Ty smiled at him sweetly, “well, if you swear.”

“Of course, I love you.”

“And things must be awful with them, right?”

“Well,” Tony paused for a moment to ponder, “maybe not awful but… weird.”

Ty sat down on the toilet lid, gesturing for Tony to continue.

“Well, you know how I told you Clint has been-”

“And absolute dick, yes.”

“Not how I put it, but that’s the general idea. Well… he apologised to me the other night.”

Ty laughed, “did he really think that would work? That you’d buy that?”

Tony fell silent, staring at the floor.

“Oh my god,” Ty sneered, “you did buy it.”

“He seemed genuine,” Tony said, shrugging, “why else would he apologise?”

Ty threw his hands up in the air, standing up to face Tony, “How _stupid_ are you? _Why else would he do it?”_ Ty mocked, “to see how damn stupid you are. To use you. To gain your trust and then take you down - just like they did last time!”

His voice rose with every word until he was shouting.

“You are so _fucking_ stupid, I cannot even believe this. You are so naive. C’mon Tony, how often are you going to let these people use you?”

Tony crossed his arms, gripping tightly to his elbows. It felt like he was trying to hold himself together in the midst of Ty’s tirade. But he was right. Tony had been stupid. These were the people who hurt him, lied to him, tried to kill him.

Why was he so ready to believe them all over again?

Ty gripped Tony by the shoulders, “you can’t trust them. You can’t. Hell, even Rhodes is suspect since he seems to buy into all this crap.”

“I know but-”

“There’s no ‘but’ here. They’re the worst. You can’t trust them.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” Tony repeated, “you’re right. I’m stupid for believing even for one second that anything will change with them. I just need to get through the next couple of months. After that I’m out of there and then it’s just you and me.”

“Just you and me,” Ty echoed, “I like the sound of that. You can trust me, I won’t hurt you like they did.”

“No one could hurt me like they did,” Tony admitted.

No one could because there was no one that could ever be in his life the way the Avengers were. Brothers, sisters, family, friends, and a lover. He trusted them in every possible way he could. There was no person, or group of people, that he’d ever known like that.

“I trust you, Ty. Thanks for the wake up call.”

“Love you,” Ty kissed him, holding onto the back of his neck as Tony tried to pull away, “get out early, then you and I can have dinner together, watch a movie, and maybe,” he wiggled his eyebrows, “y’know.”

Tony laughed, “sounds great. I’ll cook.”

The compound was quiet when he arrived. He was a little early, like always. But still, the entire building radiated that lethargic silence you could only ever feel on a Monday morning as the world around him refused to wake up.

So he did the usual; a cup of coffee next to him on his desk as shuffled through the papers on his desk. A gentle tap on his door surprised him. Cautiously, the door opened and Clint peered round.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Tony replied, frowning.

What was he doing here? Tony’s eyes flicked up to the clock above the door. He wasn’t late. So Clint wasn’t sent to fetch him. Clint swung his arms, looking awkward.

“Nice office.”

Tony looked around absently, “yeah.”

The walls were mostly bare, except for the clock and the blinds covering the window. While it was Tony’s office, it wasn’t _Tony’s._ He was always careful never to get too cosy. Even his workshop wasn’t _his._ He’d be gone as soon as the accords were signed.

Clint stood in the doorway.

“Did you need something?” Tony questioned.

Having him stand there made him anxious. He was going to figure out something Tony didn’t want him to if he kept loitering around here. Documents were on Tony’s desk that said too much about too many things he was hiding.

About the compound.

About the weapon designs for them.

About the pardon.

About his involvement in the accords.

About his help with getting Barnes’ memories back.

Things that were better kept unknown, better left unmentioned.

There was no way he could tuck them out of sight without arousing Clint’s suspicion. So he leaned forward, hands clasped near his mouth as he blocked as much of the papers as he could with his body.

“I just… the other night. I meant it. I am sorry, Tony. I just- I was angry, but,” he laughed awkwardly. Not cruel. Not unkind. It had that tone Tony was all too familiar with.

Self-hatred in each syllable and note.

“It’s fine, Clint. Honest.”

“I really am sorry though. I thought I’d let you know that I’ve- I’ve decided to get therapy. I think I’m a bit fucked up.”

Tony shrugged, “Some jobs offer health insurance or dental. We offer getting fucked up in the head and dysfunctional relationships. Dream job right?”

Clint laughed sadly, “not wrong there. But still…”

“You wouldn’t want to do anything else.”

“Exactly. But yeah, I- I’m going to see a therapist. I shouldn’t have blamed you and I just- Is there anything I can do to fix this?” He gestured between the two of them. “You’re one of my best friends and I fucked up majorly. I-”

“Hey,” Tony’s voice came out sharp, “it’s fine.” The last thing he needed to Clint hating himself because of Tony. He bent his head over his papers but still Clint lingered. His presence wasn’t unwelcome but the mood between them felt like fog. Tony sighed. “Would it help if I said I forgive you?”

“That’s not-”

“It was just some words. I’m not losing any sleep over it. Most of what you said was true.”

“No, it wasn’t. I said some awful things but I didn’t mean it.”

“People always say they didn’t mean it,” Tony responded, setting his pen down with an air of irritation. “And yet they always say it again, the very next moment they have the chance to. You don’t need to apologise for telling me the truth, Barton. I’m a big boy, I can handle it.”

“But it wasn’t the truth!”

He scoffed, gathering the papers, collecting them into their folders. He filed the ones that needed to be filed and carried the ones for the meeting in his arms.

“I swear.”

He wanted to believe him.

“Look, if I could prove it, I would.”

He could believe him.

“Please.”

Tony swallowed against the lump in his throat. He asked his question again: “Would it help if I said I forgive you?”

“I just want you to know I didn’t mean it. You were never to blame and I really appreciate how much work you’re putting in to help us.”

Tony walked up to Barton, clapping him on the shoulder, “I’m only doing this because Ross is making me,” he breezed past, and out the door. He turned briefly, walking backwards down the hall, “I forgive you Barton,” he yelled.

Clint turned and jogged to catch up to him, “I _am_ sorry.”

“I think there’s such a thing as apologising too much.”

“Am I? Apologising too much?”

“Hmm, I think I can handle another one,” Tony laughed.

Clint’s eyes glinted happily, mischief returning to their irises. He pulled Tony into a hug, with an apology spoken into his shoulder. He could feel the warmth in the words, the truth in his tone. But mostly he felt the fear and fragility in his own forgiveness. And he knew Clint felt it too.

So when the hug broke, the fragile forgiveness rested on both their shoulders.

“Have you lost weight?”

Tony shrugged, “I don’t think so.”

Clint threw an arm around his shoulders, “hmm.”

Panic injected itself into Tony’s veins. Did Clint believe him? But Tony walked off to the meeting before Clint could ask anything else.

Most of the others walked in, all yawns and stretches of stiff backs, barely looking around the room with tired eyes. Tony waited five minutes. Then ten. Finally, at the fifteen minute mark, he commented on the elephant in the room.

“Is Wanda not joining us today?”

The team glanced around, no one ready to comment. Steve cleared his throat.

“We spoke to her and she agreed that it would be better for her not to join us until she has her anger under control.”

“She’s going to get counselling,” Sam added, “grief counselling, anger management classes, and a therapist. With how she acted on Friday, we’re looking into seeking specialised help for PTSD.”

Tony glanced around the room, their faces stoic. Sombre. The gravity of the situation seemed to consume them all. This was all real.

“You’re joking, right?”

Because it had to be a joke. Wanda wasn’t to blame. She had every right to be angry. That was totally normal.

Steve shook his head, “we’re sorry we didn’t step in sooner. She should never have done that to you. She should never have even had the opportunity to try hurting-”

“Torturing,” Natasha cut in.”

Steve nodded, “torturing you like that. It shouldn’t have come to that. I’m sorry.”

“Getting a lot of apologies today,” Tony muttered.

“She’s not going to join us again until she’s given the all clear from a therapist and she feels comfortable to.”

“But what about the accords?”

“Natasha and I are going to go through them with her every weekend, get her thoughts and notes and then we can feedback to the team,” Clint said, Natasha nodding though it looked like she’d sunk her teeth into a lemon, “we’re having both of us so that we can’t be accused of censoring Wanda’s comments.”

A little in awe, Tony nodded, “you’ve really thought of everything.”

“We should have done it sooner,” Steve said regretfully.

Barnes let his hand rest over Steve’s, squeezing his fingers. But the moment he noticed Tony’s eyes on his hand he withdrew it, hiding it under the table.

“Okay, well since everyone’s here, let’s begin.”

Tony cooked. It was stupid. He knew he wasn’t going to eat it, keep it. But he cooked. Just simple food: pasta and a sauce. He cooked for the team, offered them the food. They ate. Tony ate a small portion, small enough to fit into his palm, and drank a litre of water alongside. Then, his plan the since the clock struck twelve, he slipped out the room and into the closest bathroom.

Kneeling on the floor.

Fingers down his throat.

Muscles clenching.

Acid on his tongue.

Eyes watering.

Coughing.

Shaking.

Cramping.

He stood and brushed his clothes with his palms. He flushed the toilet and wiped his eyes with the heel of his shaking hands. Made sure no evidence, no trace of himself was left. Mouthwash, a glass of water, and then to the gym to make sure he burnt anything he hadn’t managed to get rid of.

No one mentioned his disappearance after lunch. But they thanked him for the pasta.

He was early again. He hadn’t slept. So he made Ty breakfast and came in early. He had nothing else to do and his nightmares lived at home, chasing him into the daylight. He could still feel the hand around his throat. The bruises from last night hadn’t lasted. Not on his neck at least. His nightmare had been good at placing them in hiding spots; under cover of swathes of fabric or a well-placed watch.

“Morning,” Natasha greeted in an annoying sunny tone.

Tony only grunted in annoyance.

“Didn’t sleep well?”

“I slept fine,” he replied, clipped and brief.

“Do you want some coffee?” Natasha offered him a mug.

“Thanks,” he slumped into his seat, drinking it deeply.

“Ah,” she said in mock realisation, “not tired, just caffeine deprived.”

“If I’m not currently drinking caffeine, I am deprived of caffeine.”

She laughed lightly, “I’ll make note of that.” She mimed pulling out a pen and paper, touching the pen to her tongue before writing. “Mr Anthony Edward Stark must always consume caffeine, else he will fall into a somnolent state.”

Tony didn’t bother replying. Instead he clutched his coffee like driftwood at sea. It would eventually carry him to shore.

The day passed slowly, and Tony spent most of it in a daze. It was like his eyes were constantly out of focus. He couldn’t even look at the papers in his hands or listen to Natasha or Steve discuss the accords without his mind drifting away from him.

It’s not like he was thinking about anything. He just didn’t have the energy to pay attention. His stomach kept aching. He pressed his fist against it, trying to quell the rumblings it made. It was so loud. Everyone must be able to hear it.

No, he was being paranoid. He wasn’t even hungry, so he couldn’t have made any noise. That ache was probably something else. He was feeling sick. That was it. He’d only have a light lunch because he wasn’t feeling well.

He watched the clock with apprehension. Every second that ticked closer was a second closer to him having to eat. He didn’t want to eat. He felt too sick to eat. But if he didn’t eat at least _something_ then people would ask. They’d comment. They’d pry.

He could already see the tabloids. Hear the headlines. Maybe the Avengers wouldn’t say anything to the media.

Maybe they would.

He couldn’t risk anyone finding out either way. He didn’t want pictures. He didn’t want press. He didn’t want fame or notoriety or to be seen. He just wanted a little control over everything. Just a little.

His lunch time was becoming routine. Easy. He could keep this up. Cook for the team. Eat a small portion. Sneak out. Throw up in the closest bathroom. Work out until lunch was over. No one ever tried to follow him. No one tried to join him. Just his own little moment of quiet, where that little nagging voice in his head couldn’t catch up with him as he ran on the treadmill. It couldn’t be heard over the sound of his fists hitting the punching bag. It couldn’t get a word out as Tony found himself unable to get his own words out, panting for breath. Tire himself out.

Even after working out, Tony couldn’t focus. Whatever runner’s high he had had since left him. He was staring blankly at the wall again; everyone’s voices became white noise. It was almost melodic. A gentle hum of white noise. His chin was resting in his hand, elbow propping him up on the table. He needed to focus. He needed to do better. But his brain wouldn’t engage in whatever was being said.

Instead his brain felt like… Like a hum of a laptop overheating, or a car revving to much.

“You okay?”

It took Tony a moment to realise Sam was addressing him, “hmm?”

“You all right, Tony?”

Tony took his head out of his hand, offering what he knew was a drained smile. Not like he could do much better though. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Tony lied, “just tired. Didn’t sleep well.”

Sam seemed satisfied but Natasha was frowning at him.

“Earlier you said you slept fine.”

“I don’t think I did,” Tony yawned, “why would I say that?”

“I don’t know, but you did,” she insisted.

Tony shrugged, “I don’t remember saying that.”

“I asked you if you were tired, you said no, then I gave you coffee.”

Tony gestured vaguely, letting his chin settle back in his hand. “I’m telling you, I don’t remember. Not like it’s important though, right?”

Natasha frowned, this time not from irritation but instead confusion, “I guess not. But take better care of yourself.”

Tony rolled his eyes, “because I _totally_ want to _not_ sleep,” he retorted.

The sarcasm was toxic on his tongue, like a magnet to repel whatever his actual feels were.

“Of course you want to sleep, but make sure you’re not overworking yourself.”

“I don’t!”

He was in early again. He had a few hours sleep. A couple. Maybe like a solid half hour. He’d been called out; some science experiment had been wrecking downtown Chicago and he needed to shut it down. Quick and minimal damage, couldn’t have gone better. But still, didn’t make for good sleep. Too much adrenaline. So he came in early instead. He thought he’d be the only one up and ready at this time. After all, he was especially early today. Nothing like a 1am start and the smell of scorched metal to begin his day. But he wasn’t. The only one up that was. He could hear rattling travelling down the corridor. And the smell of - it took him a moment to place it - warm melted chocolate. He wandered down the hallway, stopping outside the kitchen. He opened the door and peered in.

Clint was standing over the oven, mixing bowl in hand. He mixed in chocolate with flour and eggs, whisking and beating the mixture until it was smooth. He glanced over his shoulder.

“Morning. Thought it would be you.”

Tony sat himself down at the island, “what gave me away?”

Clint smiled down at the bowl, “knew you’d smell out the brownies.”

“Only thing you can actually make.”

“Yeah, but at least I make them well.”

Tony hummed, vaguely agreeing as he picked up an old newspaper that lay discarded on the counter. Thankfully, the Avengers hadn’t appeared in the news lately. No news was good news. People can’t talk shit if no one’s talking about them. He sighed in relief, drawing Clint’s attention back on him.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Tony dismissed quickly.

Clint shrugged and went back to his baking, “I can bring you the brownies once they’re done, if you want?”

“Brownies? Plural?”

“Oh, I- I thought you were waiting for them.”

Tony didn’t respond. He wasn’t here for the brownies. Sure the smell of chocolate called him here, but he didn’t really have a reason for staying. So why was he staying?

“The first tray will be done in about 10 minutes.”

“You’re making more than one tray?”

Clint nodded, offering Tony a spoon to try the brownie mix. Tony shook his head, and Clint dipped it in instead. “Yeah, when you are around, the brownies don’t tend to last long,” Clint teased.

Because it was just teasing.

Only teasing.

_He’s calling you fat._

_And greedy._

_Just can’t help yourself can you._

_Such a pig._

Tony smiled weakly, “maybe it would be better to share them with the team at the meeting then.”

Visibly deflating, Clint kind of shook his head in disbelief, “if that’s- if that’s what you want, then sure.” He perked up again, “I don’t think Scott or Bucky have ever tried my magnificent brownies!”

Tony smiled again, more authentically this time. “We’ll save some for Wanda too.”

Tony did his best to put the brownies out of his mind as he set up the meeting room. Peter had joined him shortly after chatting away happily, as Tony straightened up everyone’s files for the tenth time.

“-oh and then MJ said to us that we built it wrong, and we were certain it was fine but she was RIGHT, so we had to completely rebuild the Death Star from scratch, and now I know why the Empire were so annoyed when they it was blown up the first time, the thing is a bitch-”

“Language.”

“-a pain,” Peter corrected, “to build.”

Tony nodded along, not entirely following. Something about Lego. As Peter chattered to him, the apparently sleep deprived Avengers trailed in: some yawning, some holding coffee, and one annoyingly perky super soldier with a much less perky super soldier looking like he’d love another 15 hours of sleep.

“It wasn’t that bad Buck.”

Barnes shot Steve a glare. Tony tensed. How bad was not that bad?

_Are they going to fight?_

It seemed to be in good fun.

_They’re going to fight._

Tony fought the urge to call for a suit or at least convert his watch to a repulsor.

“C’mon, it was just a run.”

Barnes dropped his head onto the table, not moving much thereafter. Natasha nudged him with a pen, which he grabbed and threw out the open window.

“What did you do to him?” Natasha asked.

“It was just a run,” Steve tried to defend himself.

But Tony remembered Steve’s runs. He only made the mistake of joining him once. A 3am start for a 4 hour run. Before breakfast. No stopping, because Steve didn’t need to, and it didn’t matter that he’d outlapped Tony 4 times in the hour, Tony sure as hell wasn’t going to _stop._

He clucked his tongue sympathetically, before he could even think about who he was offering sympathy. But Barnes looked like death, and Tony had been there before.

“Not all of us like early mornings, Steve,” Tony reminded.

“Bit rich coming from you,” Clint laughed from the doorway, “like you weren’t here at 3am because I tempted you with these.”

He pulled out a plate of brownies from behind his back. They were stacked in a tower, layers upon layers of brownies. Tony’s hand almost reached for one.

Almost.

_Fatty._

_God, you have no self control_

_You should be better than this._

_Control yourself._

He set his hand on the table instead, gesturing with his other for Clint to set the plate down. “Yeah, well, you were baking so of course I had to arrive early. I wanted first dibs on the best pieces.”

Clint grinned at him, pleased with his work, “well, it’s a free for all now,” he grabbed himself a cup of coffee, watching with glee as everyone’s eyes bounced from him to the brownies and back to him again. Waiting for permission. Waiting for someone else to go first. Or just waiting because Clint should have first pick.

“On your marks. Get set. Go!”

Everyone lunged for a brownie.

Tony had managed to get by without one. Clint had easily made enough for everyone to have 5 each, plus some spare. Extra was always needed when you had a super soldier metabolism around. And they had two around. Plus a Spider-Man, an archer, an assassin, an airman, and a… wait, what did Scott do?

The pile of brownies quickly disappeared, everyone leaning forward to grab their pieces. Tony passed Peter some brownies, making sure he got a couple from Tony’s share. Within seconds, only a few brownies remained.

Clint offered Tony the plate.

“Oh I couldn’t,” Tony declined.

“Go on, they’re your favourite.”

_Fatfatfatfatfatfatfatfatfatfatfatfatfatfatfatfatfatfatfatfatfatfatfatfatfatfatfatfatfat_

“I’ve had at least six,” Tony smiled, pushing the plate back across the table, “but thanks.”

Sam glanced at the plate, “if he’s not going to…”

Tony shook his head.

Natasha watched him, body relaxed but gaze ever sharp. She surveyed him. It felt like he was being x-rayed, like she was trying to see his stomach contents. She leaned forward and whispered to him.

“I didn’t see you have any.”

“I had quite a few,” Tony lied.

“But I didn’t see you so much as lean forward.”

Tony shrugged, “well I did. I had a couple. Ate them fast. Like I’d miss out on Clint’s brownies.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, “okay. If you say so. You joining us for lunch?” She asked casually.

Tony shook his head, “I’ve got to work through lunch.”

“I can sit in your office with you.”

“Sorry, I really have to concentrate. We can catch up later.”

Why did he always come in early? He’d spent maybe an hour at home before coming straight back to the compound. But something felt… wrong at home. He didn’t know how to explain it. He’d told Ty about the brownies and they had a fight over it. He hadn’t even had the chance to tell Ty he didn’t eat one, that he wasn’t getting _too_ friendly with the Avengers, that it was all fine.

Ty was stressed from work. That’s all this is. Just some stress. Tony would take him on a date this weekend: Ty was free on Sunday. They could split a bottle of wine, enjoy a night out, maybe go to the theatre, or golfing, or somewhere that wasn’t home or work. It’d be good for them, spending time together.

They hadn’t… they hadn’t seen each other much lately. With Tony’s work and Ty taking all the night shifts he could and seeing friends when he was free… Things felt weird between them.

Maybe he was imagining it.

_You’re not._

He was imagining it.

_You’re not. He wants to break up with you - you know it. You’re going to die alone, just like he warned you. You should have been better._

He would be better. It wasn’t too late… right?

He texted Ty quickly, asking him to keep Sunday free. Ty agreed and they texted back and forth. His usual graveyard shift was dull, mostly just paperwork. No butt kicking or crime solving tonight. And soon, Ty was speaking in hushed tones down the phone.

“Hey, I have to be quiet, I’m hiding in the stationery cupboard.”

“That’s okay, I’m happy you called.”

“So… what’s Sunday?”

“Just thought, since you’re off, we could spend some time together. You know, dinner and a movie, wining and dining. You’ve been working so hard lately, and I thought it would be good for us to do something not work related.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you. I’d love that. How about lunch at that cafe you like and then a walk together in the park?”

“Sounds great, I’ll book us a table.”

Tony couldn’t stop grinning, and he had to fight to stop himself skipping down the corridors. Maybe it was odd to be so gleeful over going on a date with his boyfriend, but it had just been so long since they’d gone out and done something together.

“You look happy.”

“Morning Scott,” Tony replied.

“Morning,” Scott returned, pouring himself a cup of coffee and grabbing a bagel from the constant array of foods Tony kept stocked. “You look happy.”

“You said.”

“So…”

Tony sighed. Why did anyone - everyone! - expect every piece of his life? He wanted privacy and secrets and the ability to hide away from scrutiny. Instead he couldn’t even smile without it being questioned. And so the smile disappeared.

“Nothing, Scott, just spoke to someone I hadn’t heard from in a while.”

Scott grinned at him, “that’s great, good for you!”

“Thank you?” Tony questioned slowly.

“Yeah, last time Rhodes was here, he mentioned that he hadn’t heard much from you aside from these meetings. Glad you’ve managed to reconnect.”

Tony blinked at him.

Rhodey had said that?

_He talks about you behind your back. What else has he said about you?_

_Can you trust him?_

_Can you_ really _trust him?_

Tony shook his head, “It wasn’t Rhodey, it was…”

 _Privacy. They don’t know yet. They don’t ever need to know about that side of you. Or about Ty. It’s not safe. What would they think? They’ll look at you differently, you know they will. What if they don’t like_ those sort _of people? People have been killed for less. People have tried to kill you for less._

“A friend from college. But,” he swallowed against the sudden urge to scream, “I’ll be sure to talk to Rhodey more. Thank you for letting me know.”

He had other friends besides Rhodey to talk to. He did. There was Pepper and Happy and… Tony stared down at the papers in front of him, blinking furiously as he tried to breathe. There had to be other people.

Except there wasn’t. And he barely spoke to Pepper. He couldn’t even remember the last time he spoke to Happy. And Rhodey was right, he only ever talked about work and meetings.

So who else did he have, apart from Ty and Rhodey?

“’Scuse me one second.”

Tony pushed out of the meeting room, as everyone else was coming in. He heard someone call his name out in concern but he kept walking.

His office was safe. He pulled out his phone and called Ty again.

“Hey,” Tony said breathlessly, the moment Ty picked up.

“Hey? You okay?”

Relief. His voice was like a balm to a burn. Anxiety fading Tony spoke up.

“Yeah, just something one of the guys said got under my skin a little.”

“What did he say?” His voice was soft and gentle, and it was like Ty’s words were piecing him back together. He couldn’t fragment when Ty was with him.

“Just, apparently Rhodey’s been saying some stuff about me behind my back, and that he’s the only person I have to talk to.”

Ty huffed a little, “I did try to warn you about him. He gave me a bad vibe.”

“I know. I should have- I should have trusted you on that. I hate people gossiping about me behind my back. I just want some privacy, you know?”

“You totally deserve some privacy; I can’t even imagine what it was like, being in the papers all the time.”

Tony chuckled darkly, “don’t even get me started. Most people get to make a fool of themselves when they’re teens and it’s forgotten. I had my entire teens published in papers. There was this time in college when I was fourteen and I was with my first girlfriend-”

“It sounds like hell,” Ty cut him off, “those are definitely some awkward years.”

“Yeah, and it was a flaming mess. So privacy. It’s a thing that I like, and I wish the group here wouldn’t pry so much.”

“Yeah, it must really suck.”

Tony could hear the sound of Ty typing in the background, keys of a keyboard clattering loudly.

“Sorry, I’m bothering you.”

“Kind of. I just have a lot of work to do.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have called.”

“I forgive you, but with the whole ‘Rhodey being the only one you talk to’ thing? Remember, you don’t need to talk to him. You always have me. Just you and me.”

“You’re all I need.”

“Damn right I am,” Ty laughed, “you aren’t getting any better than me, baby.”

Tony laughed, “Love you, I’ll leave you to work now.”

“Love you too. Don’t bother with Rhodey or those Avengers any more. Just think about coming home to me.”

“I always do. Love you.”

“Bye honey.”

“Bye.”

Tony hung up the phone and breathed freely. Privacy. Ty was that one little oasis of privacy. He could step away from the Avengers and New York and even Iron Man and just hide. He was the coat closet at a party, he was the tree house in the back garden, he was the bedroom with the door locked.

And instead Tony had to go back to a meeting room where he sat at the head of the table with all eyes on him. Or the suit which was ostentatiously painted in gold and red. Or the penthouse in New York with its sweeping windows with panoramic windows that any photographer with a telephoto lens could see him from.

No. He needed to do everything to protect his oasis.

And so he focused on getting through the meeting. On making a point to talk to Rhodey during the break. On eating with the team for lunch and giving them whatever bland answers they wanted. Then he left to do his usual. Throw up. Gym. And then back to the meeting room.

He was five minutes early.

Five minutes he could have used to burn off the calories from his coffee.

But not enough time to go back to the gym and shower and exercise again.

Scott came in and when he saw Tony he paused at the door.

“I’m sorry, Stark.”

Tony didn’t look up from signing the papers Peter had dropped off for him before heading home. “For what, Lang?”

If they were using last names, last names it would be. But it did make Scott look like he was being scolded by a particularly stern Principal.

“Earlier, I’m sorry if I said anything that…” he shrugged.

Tony shook his head, “no, it’s me. Sorry, there’s been stuff I’ve been dealing with.”

Scott tilted his head, clucking his tongue in apparent sympathy, “want to talk about it?”

“No thank you,” Tony replied curtly, before laughing in an attempt to break the tension, “I don’t pay any of you enough to deal with me.”

Scott smiled uncertainly at Tony’s laughter, “okay?” Scott swung his hands back and forth, clapping them in front then behind in rhythm. “You disappeared at lunch again. Where do you go?”

Tony grit his teeth. Privacy. Too much to ask. “Just the gym. I don’t get a lot of time to work out at home, so when I have a moment spare.”

“Training for a marathon or something?” Scott teased, “you haven’t missed a day this week.”

“Been watching me or something?”

Scott shook his head, “no, just, you notice when someone is missing at the dinner table.”

Tony rolled his eyes, “not a marathon, no. I just work out. Keep my stamina up for-” for Avengers work, but if he said that, it would just make him feel guilty. “-for health reasons.”

Scott nodded seriously, eyes dropping down to the floor then back up to Tony, “I like to do martial arts. Hope, uh, Hope Van Dyne that is, she trains with me, well, she teaches me.”

“Boxing for me. Some MMA.”

“That’s so cool, can you show me some time?”

“You want to train together?”

“Of course!”

Tony stared at him in confusion for a second before clearing his throat, “o-okay. We can train together, sometime.”

“How about tomorrow? Lunch if you’re free?”

“Oh no, you all need a break from me and the accords and everything - use lunch to relax. We’ll find some other time.”

“Okay,” Scott agreed, “just let me know when you’re free, I’m not exactly up to much lately,” he gestured vaguely around.

“Once we have these accords sorted, you’ll have more than you can handle,” Tony countered, “I wouldn’t give up your free time just yet if I were you.”

He wasn’t in early this time. He was so so late. He was called out last night, some kind of supernatural bomb threat. It hadn’t gone off; thankfully he’d managed to disarm it. Less pleasantly, however, was his suit was so damaged from the call outs lately, that he’d been grazed by a couple of bullets. There were videos of it playing on the news. Tony had cycled between channels as he flew back to the compound. There was no way they hadn’t seen it. Ty had seen it, and scolded Tony for being so reckless. He deserved that much. But he had to be reckless, otherwise people would have died. Wasn’t enough justification for Ty, but they would be talking about it when he got home. After he repaired the suit. This was going to be a long day.

From the moment he landed, everything was grating on him. From the lights being too bright, to the sounds of the air ducts rattling, to the feeling of his clothes on his skin. It was just going to be one of those days where everything was awful. He could hear everyone yelling from down the corridor, though not loud enough for him to make out the words.

Could he just turn around? Go back home? Let Ty look after him?

He sighed, steeled himself, and strode down the corridor.

But paused again, hand on the door handle of the meeting room. He could hear their voices louder this time.

“We need to get this done,” Steve was yelling.

“But we need to get this done sensibly,” Sam reasoned, “otherwise everything will be for nothing.”

“Sorry, Cap,” and Scott really did sound sorry, like it pained him to say these words, “but Sam is right. Hiding. For a year. We can’t throw that away.”

“But he’s going to get killed out there.”

“Steve-”

“No Natasha, he’s alone, we can’t leave him like that-”

“Steve, calm down. He has his suit. Hell, he’s been doing this longer than you have, really.”

There was a brief beat of silence before Tony heard Scott laughed.

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, he’s been doing this since 2008. So that makes it nine years. Steve, you started in 1942, took a… nap, and woke in 2011. So that makes 6 years. Even if you spent three years in the war, which you didn’t, you’d have the same amount of experience as Tony.”

“But-”

“No buts. You had the Howling Commandos and Bucky and me for most of it as well. Tony was pretty much alone.”

“Hey!”

“Well, you were around, but did you go on every mission with him?”

Silence.

“Didn’t think so. Tony’s capable Steve. And you need to stop treating him like he’s not.”

“But-”

“Do you really want to finish that sentence?”

“I just… I’m worried about him. He seems…”

He heard Steve slump into a chair, the metal and fabric of it creaking under him.

“Different,” Steve concluded.

“Less… himself,” Clint added, “I know what you mean.”

Natasha scoffed, “well, considering all of us have turned on him in one way or another-”

“Hey!”

“2010 birthday party, Rhodes, don’t think you’re innocent.”

“He let me.”

“Does that really make it any better?”

Silence again. Before a sad, “no.”

“Let’s just give him time. And space.”

Tony turned on his heel and walked to his office. He needed to be there. Just for a second. To pick up paperwork. Yeah, that was it. It had nothing to do with the fact that it would be incredibly awkward to walk in right at that moment. He was already late, what would a little bit later really matter?

He sat in his office for a couple of minutes, waiting; time ticked by slowly as he watched the clock, waiting for when he hoped the conversation would have changed. So he signed some things that Pepper had left a sticky note on, and filed away the designs he had for Rhodey’s armour. Until about an hour before lunch time.

He sneaked into the room, trying to take his seat without being seen. The Avengers were arguing again, but Tony just did his best to take notes and let them say their piece to each other.

Best not to get involved.

_They don’t really want your feedback. They don’t even want you here._

Tony kept his head down and worked until lunch. Needed to catch up - make sure no one would report him to General Ross.

No one said a word about his lateness.

****

“You okay? You didn’t say much today.”

Natasha pulled up a chair at his desk, taking her seat opposite him and setting her plate down.

“I needed some time. And space,” he copied her intonation exactly, letting her cadence take his words.

“You heard that, huh?”

“Uh huh.”

“Tony, I’m sorry. We shouldn’t be talking about you like that.”

“If you’ve got a problem with me or something, can you just tell me? I’m getting tired of the performance.”

“Problem, Tony, no.”

Tony rolled his eyes, picking up his mug to sip from his coffee, clasping it between his hands to warm up his fingers. He’d been cold lately. Probably just bad blood flow or something.

“You’re not eating much. Again.”

“You got a feeding fetish or something?”

“No,” Natasha sighed, taking a deep breath in order to continue, “just don’t want you falling ill again.”

_Only so that you continue having some use. She just wants to use you. She doesn’t care._

“Large breakfast,” Tony retorted, “and I’m going out to eat later.”

“Oh…” Natasha seemed to land off-kilter, “who with?”

“A friend.”

“From?”

“College.”

“Oh, so where are the two of you going?”

“What’s with the interrogation?”

“I’m not interroga- I’m just trying to make conversation.”

“With you, Nat, it’s always an interrogation.”

She huffed, legs crossed, hands clasped tightly in her lap, “Tony,” she said his name slowly, deliberately, “I am trying here.”

“As if I’m not.”

Natasha looked ready to remark before she swallowed whatever comment was standing on the tip of her tongue.

“I have a life outside of this.”

“I never said you didn’t,” Natasha tried to amend.

“I’m set to retire once all this is over, I can’t rely on the Avengers.”

Natasha looked down at her plate, absently picking at the sandwich sat there, “no. You’re right. We shouldn’t rely on them.”

“There’s no ‘we’ in this, Nat. There’s you. There’s me. No we.”

“Okay, I get it,” Natasha stood, taking her plate with her and pushing her chair in as she stepped away from the desk, “No we. You don’t trust me, with good reason. But-” she pinched Tony’s chin and dragged his gaze to meet hers.

Her eyes searched his. Intensity in her intent that Tony tried to fight against. He didn’t know what she was looking for so he didn’t know what he needed to hide. But she leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

“I care about you. I’m not about to abandon you.”

“Again.”

Natasha nodded, “again. It was a mistake the first time. I know better. I’m going to make it right.”

And she said it was so much confidence, so much conviction, that Tony almost believed her. But that little voice in the back of his mind piped up.

_Why would she bother? She’s going to get sick of you. Better keep your distance._

Tony pushed her hand down.

Crestfallen. For a moment. Then it was back to relaxed posture, plain smile, and loose steps as she walked away, waving behind her.

Just as she closed his office door, she poked her head around and offered a smile - bright, full of laughter, and just a little bit of a smirk - “I will make it right. I’m not abandoning you again.”

_You’re an idiot for wanting to believe her._

Once bitten, twice shy. He wasn’t going to let himself be fooled by her again.

_Keep your distance._

Better to let her leave with the last word. Let her think she had the upper hand. But he wouldn’t offer her an inch, because she’d take a marathon.

He wasn’t going to let them be his family again.

July 28th 2017 – 02:02pm

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **28**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 1**** ** **29**** ** **lbs)****
  * Tame Garden
  * ********Finish the Accords (Changes made - only finished once Avengers approve)****
  * Set up private server at home 
    * Move documents off server in compound
  * Work on the prototypes 
    * Reconfigure the field medic critical aid device 
      * Calibrate then run the test sequences to ensure accurate results
    * Figure out how to increase the display quality on the projector without impacting cost per unit 
      * Contact the suppliers to negotiate a better price on the fuses, copper wiring, and laser diodes
    * Repair the suit 
      * Fix the seals
      * Look into tempering the shoulder plates more.
      * Seal the cracks in the plates
    * Improve on the suit/build new suit 
      * Find a way for the device to be kept on at all times 
        * ~~Suitcase~~ tried, too bulky.
        * ~~Watch~~ tried, not enough storage for suit
        * Chest piece - really don’t want another chest piece, brainstorm other possibilities.
      * Revisit the reflector panels design - improvements need to be made, can be detected 
        * Look into ways to hide from radar and infrared.
      * Stronger armour - weakens with continued and prolonged use without maintenance in the meantime.



Food Eaten:

  * Pasta*
  * Cups of Coffee x5 (5x black, no sugar), 3x *
  * Half a BLT sandwich*
  * Cups of Coffee x4 (4x black, no sugar)
  * Fruit Salad (1 cup)
  * Cups of Coffee x7 (7x black, no sugar) 2x *
  * Grilled Chicken Salad (couldn’t *, maybe dehydrated?)
  * Cups of Coffee x3 (3x black, no sugar)
  * Half a CLUB sandwich (Natasha watching, couldn’t *)
  * Cups of Coffee x6 (6x black, no sugar)




	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another long chapter for you - I wanted to post this Sunday, but had to send my laptop to be fixed so delayed :/ hope the chapter makes up for the wait.
> 
> Also a massive thank you to my beta reader and editor, Buffy, who deserves all the praise for this chapter as she was amazing at helping me edit this one to get it the way I wanted. Thank you - love you 3000 💖

#  ****Chapter**** ** **29**** ** **\- An Apology****

July 29th 2017 – 11:33am

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **28**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 1**** ** **29**** ** **lbs)****
  * Tame Garden 
    * Need to get this done by next weekend - Ty wants a BBQ
  * ********Finish the Accords (Changes made - only finished once Avengers approve)****
  * Set up private server at home 
    * Move documents off server in compound
  * Work on the prototypes 
    * ~~Reconfigure the field medic critical aid device~~ ~~~~
      * ~~Calibrate then run the test sequences to ensure accurate results~~ ~~~~
    * Figure out how to increase the display quality on the projector without impacting cost per unit 
      * ~~Contact the suppliers to negotiate a better price on the fuses, copper wiring, and laser diodes~~ ~~~~
    * Repair the suit 
      * Fix the seals
      * Look into tempering the shoulder plates more.
      * Seal the cracks in the plates
    * Improve on the suit/build new suit 
      * Find a way for the device to be kept on at all times 
        * ~~Suitcase~~ tried, too bulky. ~~~~
        * ~~Watch tried~~ not enough storage for suit ~~~~
        * Chest piece - really don’t want another chest piece, brainstorm other possibilities.
        * Mesh woven into clothing - could be too expensive, would need a lot of clothing to ensure always had a suit
        * Shuri mentioned jewellery - she did something similar for T’Challa - could work, but not really a necklace kind of person
      * Revisit the reflector panels design - improvements need to be made, can be detected 
        * Look into ways to hide from radar and infrared. 
          * Slim down the suit? Could work but can’t compromise armour integrity
          * Look into thermal masking - could be difficult to manage
          * Maybe line the suit with Lead? Could impact weight due to material density.
        * Stronger armour - weakens with continued and prolonged use without maintenance in the meantime.



He wasn’t due in today, but here he was anyway. Ty was at work, so it’s not like he had much to do at home. No one to cook for, after all. He had made breakfast, took a picture and posted it to his instagram, then sat around the house. It felt like he was just waiting around until Monday. He had so much to do that he couldn’t do at home, since his workshop had been… reduced, because Ty wanted to share the space. So he needed to come in. Just not for the accords.

So he headed to his office to grab some paper work, chatting away to Jarvis on his earpiece.

“So, what have I got to do?”

“You have the scholarship and internship applications to review, Sir. Miss Potts has asked for these seven times this week as they are due on Monday-”

“Shit, I’ve been meaning to- I should have added it to my to-do list. What else Jarvis?”

“Your in-tray is rather full sir. You have two contracts to review, and R&D have asked for your input on a proposed design - they are apparently experiencing issues integrating your OS into the tablet-”

“Of course they are, that OS was a drunken manic creation fuelled by caffeine a year ago, why did I even bother patenting it?”

“It was functional for its purpose, sir.”

“Sure, well add redesign the OS to my to-do list.”

“Of course, sir.”

Tony opened the catch to his in-tray. It was like a letterbox fixed into the wall outside his office door, one he could open from both sides. The front of it, out in the corridor was solid metal, with a small slot at the top to let documents in. On the other side, in his office, it was clear perspex, so Tony could see the mounting pile of things he needed to do, everything he was falling behind on. He unlocked the box and pulled out the paperwork. A couple of pages slipped and fell to the floor. He knelt down and picked them back up.

“Jarvis, what’s this?”

“That, sir, is an envelope.”

He flipped it in his hands. It wasn’t addressed. No stamp, no address; strange. Just his name written on the front in block handwriting. The envelope wasn’t even sealed; the flap was slipped into the envelope, but he could easily open it. It felt heavy; the envelope was made of thick paper. Maybe from a letter writing set. He couldn’t think of anyone who would write to him. Especially write to him in a letter.

“Thanks,” Tony replied drily, “but what is it? Like, who wrote it?”

“According to Miss Friday, we do not know who wrote it, but as Captain Rogers left it in your in-tray, it may be safe to assume it was written by him.”

Great. Tony sighed, setting the envelope on top of the pile of papers in his arms. He looked around his office, picking up a few more forms before carrying everything to his workshop.

Coffee. That was how he was going to get through this. He steadily worked his way through the scholarship and internship applications, setting the completed ones in his out-tray. The letter was propped against his computer monitor, staring at him, begging him to read it. He was so… curious. But that wasn’t enough to get him to read it. He might be curious, but if he didn’t read it, he didn’t have to know. He didn’t need to find out he’d been fired, or kicked off the team, or that Steve was writing to express how disappointed he was in Tony. He bit his finger nails.

_Gross habit._

He set his hands back in his lap, away from his mouth. He would get his work done first. Then he could read it. He also needed to tidy his workshop. Do everything but read the letter or whatever it was.

It was in his in-tray. Maybe Steve wanted some upgrades or something to his armour. But why would he ask Tony for that?

_Yeah, why would he? Not like you’re any good._

Just get the work done. Just get it done. The letter could wait.

He’d never completed paperwork so fast. Not that he meant to. Not that he was paying attention. But it was fast enough that Jarvis felt need to comment on it. The letter was watching him. It sounded crazy. It was crazy. But the letter was like a presence in room, a question asked but not answered.

He picked up the envelope. Opening it, he slowly pulled out the sheets of paper with all the caution he used when diffusing bombs or soldering circuit boards. Delicately, he unfolded the sheets, smoothing them out on his workbench. The paper was thick; it seemed expensive. But it was creased and crumpled - clasped too many times between fingers, pulled taut too many times from stress. There were marks from water drops on the first and last pages, smudged ink on others. The pen changed colours once, twice, three times across the pages. There was blue ink, black biro, smudged grey pencil, and even what looked like black colouring pencil. There were four pages, A5, but Tony couldn’t read them yet.

“Jarvis, could you please scan these in an upload them to my private server?”

“Of course, sir. And as a reminder, do you still wish to set up a private server at home?”

“Remind me about that some other time, Jay, I- I think I’m going to have things on my mind.”

He sunk down onto his chair, dragging his hand over his face. He had to read it sooner or later, didn’t he? Otherwise, Steve might confront him about not reading it, right?

He was just going to get on with it.

But the workshop _did_ really need to be tidied.

No.

Except, those beakers had been sat in the sink for at least a week.

He let out an exasperated groan. He just had to do it.

Rip the band-aid.

Bite the bullet.

Swallow the poison.

Read the letter.

So he picked it up and began reading:

> _Tony_
> 
> _I can’t even begin to express how sorry I am. I don’t really know where to begin if I’m being honest. But I have to try._
> 
> _I should have told you about your parents and about_ _~~Bucky~~ _ _Sergeant Barnes. I’m not going to defend my actions, because they were indefensible. There were so many other ways, better ways, I could have and should have handled it. I hid something so important, and lied to you for so long. For you to find out in the way you did must have been the worst way imaginable. I betrayed your trust, your confidence, hurt you, and left you to suffer more than anyone for my mistakes. I shouldn’t have hidden that from you. If I could do it all over again, I would fix it. If I could take it all back, I would do it in a heartbeat. I would do anything to change what happened between us. Tony, I am so sorry._
> 
> _You’re someone who is strong and capable, and I should have had more faith in your own strength and in the strength of our friendship. I promised that whatever could happen, even if the world was ending, we’d find a way through it together. But at the first test, I let you down. I was worried that you wouldn’t understand, but I didn’t give you a chance to try. I’m sorry I didn’t trust in you the way I should have, in the way you deserve. I wanted to protect the people I loved the most, but in the end I wasn’t able to protect anyone, especially you. I wasn’t ready to lose anyone, but in trying to stop myself losing anyone, I lost everyone. I was coming from a place of grief, though that is no excuse, and I was so terrified of losing the last piece of my old life that I abandoned the most important piece of my new one. Because I may not have shown it well lately, but you are so important to me Tony. I shouldn’t have fought you. I should never have done that to you._
> 
> _I know it’s not much, but I wanted to let you know that I’m in therapy to help me make sure that I never hurt anyone else the way I hurt you. I’m working on making sure I rely on people more and stop trying to control the outcome of everything. I’ll work on my communication issues as well so that if something difficult to talk about comes up again, I won’t shy away from it._
> 
> _I truly hope that given time, we can be friends again, but I completely understand if this isn’t something you’d be comfortable with._
> 
> _I had wanted to tell you this in person, but it is unfair of me to push that desire on you. I’m sorry for not understanding that sooner when I approached you to talk over these past couple of weeks. I understand that working with me, especially in the current situation, must be difficult and stressful for you. If there is anything I can do to make things easier, please just say the word. I will try to give you as much space as you need._
> 
> _Always yours,_
> 
> _Steve_

Tony read and reread the letter. He gripped the letter tightly, knuckles turning white, before spinning on his heel and marching out the door.

“Where is he, Jay?”

“The meeting room sir, should I tell him you’re-”

“No, don’t tell anyone.”

“Colonel Rhodes is-”

“Don’t care Jarvis.”

Tony ran up the stairs, the letter crumpled in his fist. His footsteps echoed up the stairwell as he climbed higher and higher.

The stairwell door opened above him.

“Tony, great, I was just looking for you. Pepper wanted the-”

“In the workshop,” Tony snapped, pushing past Rhodey and stalking down the corridor.

Rhodey chased after him and tried to grab his shoulder. Tony shook him off and carried on walking.

“Tony, stop.”

Ignore him. He just ignored him and kept walking.

“What’s wrong?”

“Not now.”

“Well, I’m coming with you at least.”

Tony waved him off dismissively.

Finally, he pulled himself short of the meeting room door. He threw it open, the door banging against the wall. He didn’t notice how Barnes immediately jumped to his feet, fists clenched, and looking wildly around the room. He didn’t notice the way Steve got to his feet too, a hand on Barnes’ chest to keep him back. He didn’t notice the way both of them paled when they felt his anger fill the room.

Because all he could see was Captain Steve Rogers, the man who thought _he_ was the one who lost everything in their fight.

Tony slammed the letter down on the table in front of Steve, “what the _fuck_ is this?!”

Steve glanced nervously at Barnes and Rhodey, “It’s uh-”

“No, Rogers, what _is_ this? Is it a trick?! Why did you-”

Steve reached for the papers.

But that’s not what Tony thought he was doing. He stumbled back, hand coming up to his chest, gripping his shirt at the centre. There was no arc there, not any more.

Steve let his hand fall to his side, taking a couple of steps back from Tony and into Barnes. Barnes went to move, place himself between Steve and Tony, but Steve stopped him.

“Sorry,” Steve said, looking at the floor, “I know a letter doesn’t fix anything but-”

Tony took a deep breath, trying to stop fear warring with rage, fire and thunder crackling in his soul. He was just so- he was so mad at everything. He didn’t know where to put it- he needed to-

He screamed, guttural and raw and loud and with it he swung, fist slamming into the wall. He saw Steve and Barnes flinch, felt Rhodey’s flinch behind him. His knuckles had torn open, and the paint and plaster chipped under his hand. And when he uncurled his fingers, aching and painful as it was, he could feel blood run down them, dripping from his fingertips. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted to-

He wanted to cry.

_But Stark men are made of Iron. They don’t cry._

So he slammed his hand onto the table instead, droplets of blood hitting the letter and the polished wooden surface.

“You think you lost everything,” he yelled, “you fucking took everything Steve! You took everything from me!”

“Tony, you need to-”

Tony shook Rhodey off him again. He didn’t want anyone to touch him. He couldn’t have that feeling on him, even though it was already creeping over his body. That feeling of hands holding him down. Of punches and blows and hands around his throat.

He slammed his other fist into the wall.

“Jesus Christ, Tony, stop!”

The pain was clarifying. A brief moment of pause from the swirling emotions that overlapped and mixed and blended together.

He wanted to cry.

Grief. Anger. Desperation. Longing. Hatred. Fear. Anxiety. Dread. All of them were becoming a mess inside his head, and when he hit the wall, it blocked everything out for a moment.

Everything except the pain he’d felt since the beginning.

Steve and Barnes were frozen, paralysed. Steve’s mouth was agape, trying to mouth words that wouldn’t come.

Rhodey pushed Tony down into a chair and tried to look at his hands. Tony pulled them away, glaring at him until he backed off.

Eventually, Steve found his words.

“Tony, I’m so- Sorry doesn’t even begin to- I just- I had no idea what you were- I’m so sorry, I am so fucking sorry, I never meant for this to- I never wanted this to happen.”

“You took everything,” Tony snarled, “and then to say you got nothing. Are Clint and Nat and Wanda and everyone else nothing to you? You got the whole damn family in the divorce Steve.”

Steve looked down at the floor, “They aren’t nothing to me. But I didn’t get the family. We’re not a family without you. We didn’t stay a family once you were gone.”

“Once I was gone,” Tony mocked, “I didn’t go anywhere,” he was on his feet again and fuming, “I’m the only one who stayed. _You_ left. You went and left and took everything. Rhodey was almost killed, and none of you even thought to check in on him-”

“I asked them not to.”

Tony paused, turning to Rhodey, “what?”

“Sam called me. Once. To see if I was okay. I told him I was fine, thanks to you. Then he started asking after you, so I told him, any of them, all of them, not to call me again. I didn’t want to be their go between. I didn’t want to put you in that position, Tony. Giving them gossip about you. But they did check in on me.”

Tony didn’t even know what to do now. He felt… deflated. He had so much fury, so much rage. If it wasn’t for Rhodey, on Rhodey’s behalf, who was he mad for?

“I never meant to hurt you.”

“You fucking did it anyway. Did you think the punches and the shield was gonna feel like a pillow fight?” he clenched his fist, his jaw, every part of him was wound so tightly, and he had no idea what to do with this, this energy that he’d been so careful to keep contained, “this. This is why I didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to- I’m always the fucking bad guy,” Tony threw his hands in the air, circling the table until he was separated from Steve by shiny mahogany. “You wanted to talk so bad, then talk! You wrote a damn letter because you want to talk so bad.”

“Tony, I-” Steve looked defeated, “I am so sorry.”

“You’ve said that.”

“But Siberia, I never should have let you watch that video, I should have told you so much sooner, I should have-”

“What video?” Rhodey asked, stepping up to the table and reaching for the letters.

Tony snatched them back before he could get them.

“What video, Tony?”

Steve shot Tony a panicked look, Tony shook his head in reply.

“He doesn’t know?”

“He doesn’t know.”

“What don’t I know?”

“You never told him?”

“I never told him.”

“Told me what?!”

Tony could see it. The pity. Such a pitying look he gave Tony.

“Don’t look at me like that, Rogers, how was I supposed to tell anyone about what happened?”

“Tony, I’m not-”

“I don’t need your pity.”

“That wasn’t pity, Tony. I don’t pity you. I’m just so sorry. I didn’t want to leave you so-”

“So what?”

“Alone.”

“Well, you did.”

Steve looked down at the table. Handing gripping tightly to the edges as if to steady himself. As if to keep himself upright. Like he’d fall over and never get up without a crutch to hold him tall.

“Tony,” Rhodey was stern but there was trepidation in his voice, “What happened in Siberia?”

Tony glanced from Rhodey to Steve and back. “Well, see. The thing is- how do I put this? It’s kind of like-”

“Out with it.”

“HemighthaveknownthattheWinterSoldierkilledmyparents,” Tony rushed out in a breath.

Rhodey stared at Tony. Then looked to Steve, maybe for confirmation. Maybe just to see him in a new light. He pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed as if fighting off a migraine. When he finally opened his eyes, he took a deep breath and calmly announced “I’m going to kill you.”

Tony lunged before Rhodey could, sliding across the table and pushing Rhodey back.”Rhodey, no. Stop! Stop it!”

It took a few seconds, but Rhodey stopped fighting to get past him. Tony took a deep breath. “Don’t kill him. _Please._ Just, don’t kill him.”

“But that bastard- that self-righteous, hypocritical bastard, he just-” Rhodey turned on Steve “you’re protecting _him_ after what _he_ did to Tony, and just- what the fuck made you think that was okay? What is _wrong_ with you? Why would you do that to him?”

Steve didn’t defend himself. He took every word of Rhodey’s verbal barrage. He stood there, contrite, head hanging, the picture of remorse.

Maybe he was actually sorry.

_You really going to buy this? Like you did with Clint?_

Their fighting had to stop somewhere, right. He didn’t have to be friends with Steve. He didn’t have to like him. He didn’t have to think what Steve did was right. But being mad at him… He didn’t have the energy for it any more.

“Look, the Winter Soldier killed my parents,” even saying it so bluntly felt like his heart was being pierced by a thousand cuts, “it happened. But you knew. The look on your face. You weren’t watching the video-”

“The video?!” Rhodey exclaimed, jumping to his feet, “what video? Tony?”

Tony clenched his jaw; he really didn’t want to say it. But Rhodey needed to know.

“There was a video from a security camera on the night my parents died.”

“You let him watch?!” Rhodey seethed, “you knew what was going to happen and YOU LET HIM WATCH HIS OWN PARENTS DIE! I’m going to kill you.”

Rhodey vaulted the table to get around Tony. He grabbed Steve by the shirt and shoved him backward, slamming him against the wall. Barnes was knocked out the way, frozen where he stood.

“What the _fuck_ is wrong with you Rogers!? How could you- what on earth possessed you- why the fuck?!”

“Rhodey, calm down. Look, I’m not even mad about it anymore.”

“You fucking should be! Wait.” Rhodey, still with an iron grasp on Steve shirt, even with Tony trying to pry his hands off, “You find this out in Siberia? And then they beat the shit out of you?”

“Rhodey, it’s not that simple-”

But before Tony could stop him, Rhodey landed a punch in the center of Steve’s stomach.

“Rhodey, god, stop!”

“Do you have any idea what you did to him?!” Rhodey shouted, going for another punch, “what he went through?!”

Steve didn’t defend himself. He braced for another punch. Except, he was bracing to make sure it hurt the most, tense in all the wrong places. He wanted Rhodey to hit him. Tony grabbed hold of Rhodey’s arm, knocking his feet out from under him and forcing Rhodey to the floor gently, before turning to Steve.

“No,” Tony fumed, “No, this does not get to be your penitence or punishment or whatever for all of this. This won’t fix shit, Rogers. I’m not letting my best friend beat the shit out of you so _you_ feel better.”

“Tony, I-”

“Tell me I’m wrong, Steve. Tell me you didn’t want Rhodey to hit you ‘til you bled.”

“You-”

Tony glared at him and Steve clammed up.

“Thought so.”

He had never felt so… disgusted by Steve. Rhodey was right, he should still be mad. So why wasn’t he?

It was like all the fight in him had vanished. Gone. Poof. No more rage.

Maybe it was Rhodey being so mad for him?

No, that wasn’t it.

He just- he didn’t have the energy to keep fighting. This wasn’t good for them. Either of them.

Rhodey got back to his feet, releasing the fist clenched at his side but pushed Tony behind him, making sure to stand between Tony and the other two.

“You’re protecting _him_ ,” Rhodey spat out, comment aimed at Steve but eyes fixed on Barnes. “ _Just_ him _.”_

Barnes nodded. There was nothing he could disagree with. He grabbed a piece of paper from the table and wrote.

> _I’m sorry. I don’t have the words for what I did. I know an apology isn’t enough but I would do anything_ _to undo it all._

Tony nodded in acknowledgement. He took a deep breath. This all needed to stop somewhere. Eventually.

“I don’t- I can’t forgive you. But that’s because you didn’t do it, Barnes. The Winter Soldier did. The Barnes I heard about, from Dad and Aunt Peggy and” he gestured at Steve, “would never have- but they made you into something else for while.” He slumped into a chair, energy pouring out of him like water draining out of a bath. “You told me that you remembered them. That you remembered everyone. I- I can’t even begin to imagine what that’s like with what you’ve seen and done. But I know that everyone I remember, they haunt me. So if my parents haunt you, even a little-” he couldn’t let himself cry. “-that’s enough. Don’t forget them, please.”

Barnes nodded. He looked like he’d just received a gift, unexpected, wholly wanted, but undeserving. For a moment, a brief spiteful moment, Tony wanted to take it back. He wanted someone to hate, someone to blame, someone who he could put all of his problems one.

_You cause all your own problems. Blame yourself._

Tony sighed, deeply, forcing all the air from his lungs. “I knew you knew. You watched me instead of the video. And I get why you didn’t tell me. But you can only hold onto the past for so long, Steve.”

“That’s not why I didn’t tell you.” The words surprised Steve as they came out his mouth. He’d looked ready to take whatever verbal (and physical) beating Tony threw at him. But he wasn’t ready for his own admission. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to be the one to hurt you.”

“How does that make any sense?”

“I couldn’t be the one to tell you. We were happy - you were happy. And I didn’t want you to lose that over something that- something I couldn’t fix.”

Tony was stunned silent. It was almost amusing - Steve thought he was happy. Of course Steve thought that, he always was, or at least pretended to be, around Steve.

“Do you need to fix everything for me?” Steve opened his mouth but Tony continued before he could say anything, “I’ll save you the time, no you don’t. What if I was miserable instead of happy? Or if I was angry? or just indifferent to the world? Would you have told me then? Would you have ever told me?”

Steve stuttered, but eventually shook his head. “I’m sorry. I- how could I tell you? I couldn’t- I needed to find a way to make it-”

“What? More palatable? You can’t dress up death.”

Steve nodded, “I’m sorry. I wanted to find the-”

“Right time? It’s death, there’s no right time.”

Steve nodded, “I’m sorry. I’m, I am so sorry. I can’t even begin to- I betrayed your trust.”

“Yeah,” Tony nodded, “you did.” He gave a one shouldered shrug. There wasn’t much else he could say.

They were going to keep talking. But first, some air; he needed air. He walked to the door, hesitating on the threshold. Rhodey. He couldn’t leave Rhodey alone with Steve. Rhodey probably realised that too; wordlessly, he stood up and joined Tony at the door, leaving Steve and Barnes still in the room.

They walked down the corridor together, Rhodey slightly in front and pulled Tony along by their joined hands.

“I just- I can’t believe he would- _him.”_

Tony nodded. “I know.”

“How could he-”

“I know, Rhodey. Let’s just calm down for a bit.”

Rhodey exhaled shakily, “yeah, you’re right. I might have lost my cool in there.”

“Just a smidge.”

They headed up to the roof, letting the summer air warm them. They both leaned against the wall, which came up to their chests, Tony dangling his arms over the edge. He rubbed at the dried blood on his knuckles. They stood together quietly, the rustle of leaves in the breeze and the chirp of birds filling in their silence.

Tony needed a moment. He loved Rhodey, but he needed to not have someone next to him right now.

“Can I ask a favour?”

Rhodey twisted to look at him, “Anything.”

“Earlier, you were looking for that stuff for Pep.”

Rhodey frowned at him, confused.

“The internship and scholarship stuff, I think.”

“Oh, that,” Rhodey turned back to look over the grounds. “Feels like a lifetime ago.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed, “but it’s still due in Monday. Do you mind dropping that into her in-tray for me?”

“Now?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Tony nodded, “I just, I need a moment alone.”

“Okay,” Rhodey agreed, walking back to the door. He paused for a moment, “are you going back down?”

“Not yet. I’ll wait for you to get back.”

Rhodey left, propping the door open behind him.

So here Tony was standing on the roof, letting the wind slap him across the face and breathe life into him. This wasn’t the end of them talking. Of figuring it all out. That wasn’t the end of it. Not a chance. The end was a long way off.

Because they still had so much unsaid. Buried under dirt and rubble. Waiting to be salvaged. Like treasure. But they didn’t have a map to get them there.

Because at some point, he knew Steve wanted to talk about them, them together. That night. Tony really really really didn’t want to. But he had to. He had to discuss that night with Steve too.

What it all meant?

Where it went wrong?

What he did?

He knew what he did. He knew where it went wrong. And he knew what it meant to him.

Because he was the idiot who told Steve to go. He was the one who couldn’t handle it all. And Steve was the idiot who left. Because Tony wouldn’t show him that he was falling apart and falling hard and Steve wasn’t going to fall for him at all. So Tony lied for a few moments longer. When Steve asked if Tony wanted to _go_ _steady_ (like the old-fashioned guy he was), Tony lied.

He said he didn’t.

So that whatever they had then and there could stay that way and last a little longer.

Because there were only ever two choices. Tell the truth and watch it blow up in his face. Or lie and spare their feelings for a moment longer.

And this was sparing feelings. Because if Steve and Tony went steady, he’d slowly realise how messed up Tony was. This way, they could still be whatever they were in that moment. Friends who fucked. Intimacy with no name. A one night stand every night.

No need to look any deeper.

Except, the idea had a few holes. Less of a bucket and more of a sieve. Colander. A basketball hoop of a concept that he just poured his idea through.

Because after Tony said that, where could they have gone. There wasn’t a forward they could move to. It’s not like they went backwards. But they just… stopped.

Tony stopped going to Steve in the middle of the night. Steve stopped waking up next to Tony in the morning. No more trips out of the city, or lunches watching baseball. It all just stopped.

Because Tony wasn’t enough for Steve. And Tony was the only one who knew that.

Tony rubbed at his eyes.

He messed up with Steve; the perpetual one that got away. So he had to do better. Work harder. He wasn’t going to run away from Ty.

He needed to stop running from Steve too. So once Rhodey returned, he headed back downstairs to the meeting room, a head full of regrets pushing him forward.

But Tony was offered a reprieve when he and Rhodey returned to the meeting room. A salvation. Steve knew that Tony didn’t want to discuss _them_ in front of others. Steve knew that Tony never told others about them, about _him_ and that Steve was... well, he was a man. Rhodey and Pepper both knew, but he’d never really told them.

Rhodey found out at a drunken college frat party that he had to drag an underage Tony away from. College really sucked.

So Steve didn’t bring it up. And Tony wasn’t about to either.

Instead, it was Siberia still on their minds.

Tony kept himself backed against the wall, close to the door. He wasn’t afraid per se; maybe he was cautious to the extreme. He didn’t feel unsafe. But some part of his heart still beat too fast around Steve for him to stay close.

Trying to figure out where it all fell apart, Rhodey asked the room, “But how did this all break out into you trying to kill each other?”

Tony had been wondering the same thing for months. And he kept coming to the same conclusion. He looked at the floor, tugging at his sleeves. He tried to force his clothes to cover more of himself - his wrists, his stomach; he felt so exposed, “After the video I tried to kill Barnes. Rogers then tried to kill me back. To protect Barnes. It was on me. I shot first.”

Barnes made a wild gesture in protest, frantically scrabbling across the table for a pen and paper as Steve voiced his surprise.

“Tony, what do you mean?” Steve looked panicked, colour draining from his face, “tried to kill…?”

Offering a one shouldered shrug, Tony tried to explain, “yeah, you know, when I-” he mimed aiming his repulsor, “and then when you-” he mimed lifting the shield above his head and bring it down. “I thought for sure that… but you missed. Arc reactor instead. Killed the suit. Missed me.”

Barnes shoved a hastily scrawled piece of paper across the table at Rhodey and tried to push it more towards Tony.

The paper was creased from his haste, ink dark and light in places as he scratched out his message. Seven words. That was all that was written, dead center on the sheet. Dark blue on stark white. A violent contrast between truth and thought.

> _You were never trying to kill me._

Tony read and reread the words. Of course he had been. He was so mad. He wanted Barnes to hurt. He wanted the fighting to stop and he wanted Barnes to suffer.

Of course he wanted Barnes dead.

But the moment he went to protest, Barnes scratched out another note, biro held in a shaking hand.

> _Never. You had at least 23 chances to kill me. You always chose a non-lethal option. Even when you took_ _my arm, you aimed for the arm, not me. You didn’t want to kill me._

“Barnes, I-”

But he was adamant, shaking his head at Tony’s protests.

“Look, maybe I’m not as good of an assassin as you-” and the vitriol and spite on his tongue burnt through his flesh, something deeply uncomfortable in him stirring, “-but I was trying to hurt you.”

Again, Barnes shook his head. He slid another note across the table.

> _Hurt and kill are not the same._

“Can’t you say _anything?”_ Rhodey protested, “this is ridiculous.”

“Rhodey,” Tony gestured for Rhodey to stay in his seat - to relax and keep calm - because he couldn’t imagine what was happening right now and they didn’t need to add fuel to this fire. “It’s okay. This is how he talks.”

“But-”

“Drop it,” Tony said bluntly. He needed to shut this down. Now. They couldn’t force Barnes to talk. And honestly, Tony didn’t want to hear his voice right now. He couldn’t cope with that. He could still hear every word Barnes had ever said to him.

Barnes slid another sheet of paper across the table.

> _I wanted to kill you. In the embassy. You stood in my way. I was going to kill you._

Tony stared down at the paper. He tried to process the blunt remarks.

Barnes nodded: solemn and ashamed.

> _But it wasn’t the same for you. You aren’t it._

“But-”

Except, some small part of himself argued, he had wanted to catch Barnes. But he had no idea what he’d do if he’d actually caught him. He was so certain that it was life or death between him and Steve and Barnes.

Steve’s sharp inhale brought his attention back to the room.

“Steve?” Tony asked, then again, more panicked, “ _Steve?_ Are you okay?”

Steve was sheet white, backed against the wall and trembling. Sweat was breaking out across his skin. Tony reached out to rest a hand on his forearm, but Rhodey caught him before he could.

Tony shook him off.

Barnes looked at a loss. A deer in the headlights about to be hit by a semi-truck.

He gently placed a hand on Steve’s wrist, fingers hovering over his pulse. He could feel it hammering underneath his skin.

“You’re okay,” Tony spoke softly, voice calm and even, “this is just an anxiety attack. No one is going to hurt you here. You’re okay. Do your best to match my breathing.”

Tony took a deep breath, trying to time his breathing to all the recommendations he’d read online. He kept speaking slowly between each breath. Reassuring nonsense words and phrases that he’d read or heard or had told to him.

“You’re okay.”

Steve threw his arms around Tony, face pressed to his shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I would never- I would never- I couldn’t-”

Tony awkwardly patted the back of Steve’s head, murmuring “there there,” while casting a confused look at Rhodey.

But Steve’s shoulders were heaving in unconstrained sobs, apologies sweeping them both away like an avalanche.

“I- I was never going for you. I went for the arc- I just- I wanted it all to stop- I’m so sorry, I was never going for your neck-”

But as he said the word, he shifted. His arm brushed against the side of Tony’s throat. Too close.

_A sleeve of a uniform. A blank broken wall. He needed to fix that wall. A silver gun on an end table. Too much skin touching his._

Tony shoved him roughly off, Steve apologising immediately. But Tony couldn’t hear Steve’s words. He sunk to the floor, words from other people’s lips hissing in his ear.

Steve was pushed aside as Rhodey sat in front of Tony, framing his face with his hands to block any peripherals.

_Not even just skin. The pain was hole punched into him; permanent marks that took a part of him away each time. He just wanted to fix that wall._

“Tony, look at me.”

_No, don’t look anywhere but the wall._

“Open your eyes Tony.”

No wall. No room. No hand around his neck.

Rhodey. Steve. Barnes.

No Ty.

“Sorry,” Tony admitted with a shudder, “sorry. I don’t- don’t-”

He didn’t know what words he was trying to say. But Rhodey gripped his shoulder and he could feel the walls closing in.

_Broken walls that need repairing._

“Tony, focus on me.”

Tony pushed Rhodey’s hand off him but let the voice bring him back.

Steve and Barnes were both crouched nearby, a careful distance away. Steve was sat on his legs, but Barnes perched on the balls of his feet. Both looked ready to spring up at the slightest indication. Somehow, Steve had gotten paler, and even Barnes had lost some of his colour.

“Sorry,” Tony apologised again, more firm in his voice now. Surer of the ground beneath his feet and the air in his lungs.

“I wasn’t- I swear I would never try to- with the shield and-” Steve mimed raising the shield above his head, but couldn’t finished the mimed act, letting his hands fall limply to his side. “I wanted the fighting to stop. I just wanted it to stop. I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted to-”

He couldn’t say the word. His breath hitched again, teetering on the edge of panic. A thought too unreal. Too impossible. Too horrifying to put into words.

“I would never- Tony, I l- you’re my best friend, I could never- I’m so sorry- I never meant to put you in that position. I-”

Tony placed a hand on Steve’s chest, all words stuttering to a stop. “You were never going to kill me?”

Steve shook his head emphatically, “never,” he whispered.

Distraught.

That was the look on his face. Not just worried or upset. But entirely bodily devastated at the realisation that he caused Tony to fear for his life.

“You never tried to kill me?”

He couldn’t help the laugh. It was organic and free and perfectly hysterical. The tears that came with it were as unwelcome as the laugh.

But God, this was so- so impossible and senseless and completely insane.

It was so absurd. Like he’d been living beyond the looking glass.

He’d been _afraid_ for so long. Afraid of _Steve_ for so long. But instead, it had been an equally terrified friend who just wanted everything to stop.

They’d been missing each other for so long.

“You weren’t going to kill me?” Tony needed him to confirm.

“I could never, I would never,” Steve still couldn’t say the word. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I made you feel like I was going to-” But he cut himself off.

“It’s over.” Tony took a deep breath. Like breathing out smoke after being consumed in fire. It was over. Finally over. “It’s done. I don’t care anymore,” And god was his laughter a little wild, a little hysterical, but freeing.

He didn’t need to be afraid of him.

They sat in silence. Everything just processing slowly between them.

Tony had a headache. How could he not? His throat ached and his voice was hoarse and everything hurt. He was tired and hungry and-

It had been a long day.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping it would relieve the pressure building in his head. He probably just needed caffeine.

“I’m going to get some coffee-”

Steve jumped to his feet, “I can get it for you.”

“Oh,” Tony replied, bemused, “thanks?”

Steve nodded, quickly walking from the room. Rhodey went to follow.

“Rhodey?”

“I just want a word with him.”

“ _Rhodey_.”

“Don’t worry, just going to talk.”

And Rhodey left the room. Tony was going to try not to worry about that. He was sure Jarvis or Friday would let him know if anything happened.

Just him and Barnes left. Awkward wasn’t a strong enough word. They just avoided eye contact, kept their heads down and waited.

Tony flexed his hand. The blood from earlier had dried on his hands, knuckles blue and swollen. It hurt. A lot. Bending his fingers pulled at the newly formed scabs. Everything hurt.

He still wanted to cry.

_Pussy. Bitch. Little girl._

At least it was for a different reason this time. Anger gone, fear lifted, hysteria faded. Just exhaustion.

Barnes cleared his throat. He stood in front of Tony, and wasn’t that a scary thing. Tony hadn’t heard him approach, hadn’t realised he was there until he was _right_ there. But Barnes offered him the first aid box and moved to sit back down.

Tony tried to open it. But every movement of his fingers hurt. Suddenly, Barnes was right there again, flicking open the box with his right hand. He gestured at Tony to give him his hands. Tony did so warily, hesitantly offering his hand to Barnes.

Letting Tony’s hand rest on the back of his metal hand, Barnes ripped open an alcohol wipe packet with his teeth, carefully wiping at the dried blood. Tony hissed at the sting of the alcohol. But that was it. Barnes was… gentle. Surprisingly gentle. His movements were soft and predictable and repetitive and calming. Always wiping left to right, starting at the top of the cut and moving down, like reading a book. Once the alcohol wipe was too dirty to use, Barnes opened another. Again he used his teeth.

Tony felt a twitch under his hand. The metal hand was moving. And it was moving oddly. The fingers of it kept twitching erratically. And not in a way Barnes wanted or could predict if his slight scowl was anything to go by. His middle and ring fingers kept snapping to his palm, like he was trying to hold something. His index finger seemed to be fixed in a curled position, like it was wrapped around a trigger.

Tony swallowed hard and tried not to think how easy it would be for Barnes to-

But he was careful. He wrapped Tony’s knuckles, first in gauze, and then in a bandage. After securing the bandage, he moved on to the other hand, again ripping open the alcohol wipe with his teeth.

“Thank you.”

Barnes shrugged.

“No really, thank you.”

Barnes looked up and met Tony’s eyes. He ducked his head again, and went back to wiping the dried blood off Tony’s other hand.

“Hey, so I know talking is difficult for you. I could get you sign language lessons, if you wanted.”

Barnes looked up at him again. But he couldn’t meet his eyes this time, gaze settling somewhere over Tony’s shoulder. He shook his head, bending back over Tony’s hand.

“Only if you want to. I mean Clint and Natasha both speak ASL, and I know a little. Steve could take the classes with you.”

Barnes stood and reached for his notebook across the table. He quickly scribbled, handing the page to Tony before taking his bruised hand back to clean.

> _Thank you, truly. I appreciate the offer, it’s more than I deserve. But it’s probably better if I don’t speak._ _At all._

Tony set the notebook on the floor next to him. Odd.

“Why?”

The question slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it.

 _Rude, that was so rude,_ that little voice in his head accused.

Barnes picked up the book and started writing. He paused, pen poised, before scribbling over what he’d written and rewriting it.

> _I shouldn’t talk. I don’t need to talk. It’s fine._

Tony shrugged. It wasn’t any of his business. “The offer remains open if you change your mind. Just ask Friday, and she can set you up with lessons. You can just hold the notepad up to one of the cameras and she can go through the options with you.”

Barnes frowned at him, puzzled.

“Right, Friday, you might not have spoken to her. Friday?”

“Yes, Boss?”

Barnes jumped, turning this way and that to find the voice.

“Could you introduce yourself for Mr Barnes?”

“Of course Boss. I am Friday, Mr Stark’s AI system for the compound. I help run the compound, ensuring that the Avengers’ needs are met during their stay here. If you need anything, please ask.”

“Friday, Barnes is mute, so if he holds up paper with writing on to your camera, please follow his instructions.”

“Yes, Boss.”

“Thanks, Fri.”

As he finished talking, Barnes finished wrapping and securing the bandage around his other hand. Barnes then quickly packed up the supplies and set the box back on the side.

“Thanks, for this,” Tony cleared his throat awkwardly. “You hungry? I’m starving. I should check on that coffee and make sure Steve and Rhodey aren’t… So yeah, food. I’m going to-” he gestured out the door with his thumb. “You hungry?” he asked again.

Barnes shrugged.

“I’m taking that as a yes, so I’ll make you something. As a thanks. For-” Tony held up his bandaged hands, “- this. I hate owing people.”

Barnes shook his head, trying to gesture that it was fine. Tony understood him. Didn’t believe him but understood nonetheless.

“Okay, if you’re sure. I’ll get something with Rhodey. If you change your mind, I’ll be in the kitchen.”

Tony gave him an awkward nod and left.

July 29th 2017 – 3:42pm

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **28**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 1**** ** **29**** ** **lbs)****
  * Tame Garden 
    * Need to get this done by next weekend - Ty wants a BBQ
  * ********Finish the Accords (Changes made - only finished once Avengers approve)****
  * Set up private server at home 
    * Move documents off server in compound
  * Work on the prototypes 
    * Figure out how to increase the display quality on the projector without impacting cost per unit
  * Repair the suit 
    * Fix the seals
    * Look into tempering the shoulder plates more.
    * Seal the cracks in the plates
  * Improve on the suit/build new suit 
    * Find a way for the device to be kept on at all times 
      * Chest piece - really don’t want another chest piece, brainstorm other possibilities.
      * Mesh woven into clothing - could be too expensive, would need a lot of clothing to ensure always had a suit
      * Shuri mentioned jewellery - she did something similar for T’Challa - could work, but not really a necklace kind of person
    * Revisit the reflector panels design - improvements need to be made, can be detected 
      * Look into ways to hide from radar and infrared. 
        * Slim down the suit? Could work but can’t compromise armour integrity
        * Look into thermal masking - could be difficult to manage
        * Maybe line the suit with Lead? Could impact weight due to material density.
      * Stronger armour - weakens with continued and prolonged use without maintenance in the meantime.
    * Redesign the Stark OS



Food Eaten:

  * Grilled Chicken, new potatoes (boiled), green beans
  * Oreo x2
  * Cups of Coffee x4 (x3 black, no sugar, x1 black, one sugar)



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: I hand wrote Steve's letter to make sure that the length would be as described 😂😅 I may be putting a bit too much effort into this


	30. Chapter 30

#  ****Chapter 30 - Emergency Repairs** **

August 1st 2017 – 6:00pm

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **27**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 1**** ** **29**** ** **lbs)****
  * ~~Tame Garden~~ ~~~~
    * ~~Need to get this done by next weekend - Ty wants a BBQ~~ ~~~~
  * ********Finish the Accords (Changes made - only finished once Avengers approve)****
  * Set up private server at home 
    * Move documents off server in compound
  * Work on the prototypes 
    * Figure out how to increase the display quality on the projector without impacting cost per unit
  * Repair the suit 
    * Fix the seals
    * Look into tempering the shoulder plates more.
    * ~~Seal the cracks in the plates~~ ~~~~
  * Improve on the suit/build new suit 
    * Find a way for the device to be kept on at all times 
      * Chest piece - really don’t want another chest piece, brainstorm other possibilities.
      * Mesh woven into clothing - could be too expensive, would need a lot of clothing to ensure always had a suit
      * Shuri mentioned jewellery - she did something similar for T’Challa - could work, but not really a necklace kind of person
    * Revisit the reflector panels design - improvements need to be made, can be detected 
      * Look into ways to hide from radar and infrared. 
        * Slim down the suit? Could work but can’t compromise armour integrity
        * Look into thermal masking - could be difficult to manage
        * Maybe line the suit with Lead? Could impact weight due to material density.
      * Stronger armour - weakens with continued and prolonged use without maintenance in the meantime.
  * Redesign the Stark OS



The place was a ghost town. Utterly devoid of people. Tony sipped on his coffee, enjoying the quiet that echoed around his office and down the corridor. It was nice.

He typed up the revisions to the accords, adding notes detailing the time and date, the amendment desired, the issue with the old clause and who suggested it (as well as who agreed with the suggestion and who disagreed). Meticulous. It had to be meticulous.

Ty was finishing at 8pm tonight, so Tony had maybe another hour before he had to leave. Maybe a half hour would be better. Ty wanted take out tonight.

He’d mentioned that morning. He was sick of Tony’s cooking. It was all so pompous and overblown. Tony needed to tone it down.

Fine by him, he could do with a breather.

_Lazy_

A little. A lot.

 _So lazy. What do you even do all day?_ That little voice jeered at him. _Can’t cook, the house is never clean enough. What_ do _you do?_

The little voice was right. What did he do all day? His to-do list seemed ever-growing. It was rare he got to tick off an item lately. He might pull an all-nighter, once Ty was asleep. Get everything he could do at home done. Maybe skip the workout tomorrow and work through lunch instead.

 _Fat. Fat_ and _lazy. Such a winning combo._

Maybe not. He probably shouldn’t skip the workout. But he couldn’t stay late again. Ty hated him being late all the time.

But it’s not like he could delay repairing the suit. He’d just have to push it back a week or two.

He hoped he wouldn’t be called out.

Dragging his hands over his face, he tried to pull the tiredness from himself. Didn’t work. If anything, he just dragged more tiredness onto him, cloaking him like a blanket.

“Jay?”

“Yes sir?”

“Did I remember to restock the workshop coffee?”

“Sadly not, sir. Shall I add it to your to-do list?”

Tony sighed heavily, “sure, remind me to get the instant stuff though. Less expensive when Dummy uses it in a smoothie, or ButterFingers knocks it over.”

“Of course sir.”

“So where can I get coffee from?”

“The kitchen coffee pot has coffee available. Might I suggest the kitchen?”

“Thanks, Jay.”

He yawned as he pulled the coffee pot towards him, tipping the last of it into a mug. He browsed through instagram – still just the one follower, but _Took.All.The.Stupid_ had liked all his pictures. _Took_ had messaged him again as well.

_So how has your day been?_

_Pretty much the same as always :’)_

_So overworked?_

Tony chuckled under his breath.

 _Ignoring that_ _, I don’t overwork_ _, how’s the cooking going?_

 _You definitely do based on what you’ve told me about your job. And I get the feeling I’m not getting the full story. Cooking’s g_ _etting better – nothing like yours though._

_Please, I’m an amateur._

_No you’re really good._

_Eh, my partner doesn’t like it much. Wants to get takeaway tonight :/_

_Sorry to hear that – what is your partner like?_

_He’s great! Makes me into a better person, y’know. He’s the one who taught me how to cook._ _I’m less obnoxious since I started dating him. He calls me out on my shit._ _What about your guy?_

 _You guy seems… great._

_He is! Now, what about your guy?_

_He’s great. I don’t deserve him. He could do so much better._

_You seem to really like him._

_Yeah. Yeah, I do. I’ve known him since we were children._

_Aww, childhood sweethearts_

_Yeah, he’s always been there for me. We have this thing – we're together until the end of the line._

_Oh, so he’s your fiancé?_

_Huh, that’s not- why would he be?_

_Well, with you until the end of the line, sounds like a marriage proposal._

_But we’re both guys_

_And?_

_It’s not..._

_Jeez, what century are you from? It’s been legal since 2011. In New York at least. The other states followed suit in I think it was_ _last year_ _._  
 _No wait, 2015_

_Oh_

_So..._   
_when are you going to propose?_

_How do two men propose?_

_Huh?_

_Do we do rings?_

Tony paused to think, taking a swig of his coffee. Do guys do rings for each other? Guess it was up to the couple. There’s more freedom to it. Less… societal expectations.

_Up to you and your partner/soon to be fiancé_

_And proposing, who proposes to who?_

_I don’t think there’s a set rule._

_How would you want to be proposed to? Like what are the customs?_

Tony frowned at his phone. Maybe this guy wasn’t American. He’d been assuming, but maybe the guy lived somewhere else – maybe Europe?

_Well, I don’t know. I haven’t given it much thought. Something I’d want to talk it over with my partner. But I guess I’d like something simple. Private. Just me and my partner. But it all depends on your partner._

_Wanna be my caterer?_

Tony chuckled, tapping out his reply.

_Not a chance._

_Damn._

Tony laughed out loud, smiling down at his phone. He drained the last of his coffee. Rinsing the cup, he left it to drain on the side, before refilling the coffee maker with fresh grounds and water. He set the coffee pot running, and turned to leave. Only to find Barnes frozen in the doorway.

He looked apprehensive. One hand was clasping a mug in front of him tightly, and the other – his left hand, the metal arm – was tucked behind his back, out of sight.

“You can come in. I don’t bite. Much.”

Barnes offered a quick hesitant grin, but didn’t move a step. Tony grabbed a glass of water and moved around to the breakfast island, keeping the counter between himself and Barnes.

“So where’s Steve? And the others?”

Barnes shrugged.

“I don’t think I apologised to you.”

Barnes still didn’t move, but that look of apprehension was now one of fear. If anything, he’d only become more still.

“Not properly, at least.” Tony rolled the glass between his hands. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone after you like that.”

Barnes shook his head, rejecting Tony’s words. He looked around the room, searching for something. It took a moment but Tony realised what he was after.

Pen and paper.

Tony pulled out his phone and opened up the notes app. He offered it to Barnes who reached for it with his metal hand. But the fingers were still twitching, like they had been the other day. As soon as Barnes saw that Tony saw, he pulled the arm behind his back and shifted his eyes to the floor.

Tony tried to smile kindly at him. It took less effort than he thought it would. He swapped Barnes’ mug for his phone, taking the mug over to the coffee pot. He filled it with the freshly brewed coffee, and swapped it back again once Barnes had typed out his message.

> _You don’t need to apologise to me._

“No, I do. I am sorry. I- you said I wasn’t gunning for you, but,” he put his head in his hands, “it- I- I know what you said, but I can’t shake the memory off.”

Barnes set his coffee down and pulled out his own phone. He quickly typed out:

> _Yes, you wanted to hurt me. But if you were trying to kill me, then you suck at it._

Tony snorted, watering going up his nose. Why was that so funny? He coughed hard, lungs aching with it. Barnes rubbed his back, in a feather-light touch. Almost as if his hand was hovering over instead.

“Thanks,” Tony coughed again, just about able to breath. His throat had been killing him, voice constantly hoarse and rough.

Barnes nodded at him. He stood in a parade rest at the end of the breakfast bar, seemingly unsure what to do with himself. Tony drained the last of his water, setting the glass into the dishwasher before picking his coffee cup back up. He refilled it, before turning. He caught Barnes gripping his left wrist, flexing it the way one would if it were stiff or sprained.

Something in the mechanism had definitely gone.

“Want me to take a look?”

At Barnes’ confused look Tony clarified.

“At your hand. Wrist. Arm. See if I can help. It looks like it hurts-” Barnes shook his head insistently, everything was fine. “-And besides, Shuri will kill me if it breaks.”

Hesitant again. But after a couple of seconds of silence, a nod.

“Pull up a chair, mi casa e su casa.”

Barnes grabbed a work stool and sat atop it, perched tensely. He gripped the edge of Tony’s workbench with his metal hand. Tony grabbed his precision tools and set them down, inspecting the arm.

“What range of motion have you got?”

Barnes demonstrated, moving his arm as best he could. Tony hummed, thinking. Limited movement in the hand, seemed to strain Barnes to move the arm past shoulder height, and there was an uncomfortable grinding sound when Barnes reached behind him.

“On a scale of zero to five, how much can you feel in the arm?”

Barnes offered a closed fist as his answer.

“Hmm, and zero to five, how much can you feel around the joint?”

Barnes held up five fingers.

“Zero to five, how much of that feeling is painful?”

Barnes hesitated. Then slowly held up four fingers.

“Ouch, that must suck. Also, this is going to be awkward for a second, can you hold out your arm straight ahead for me?”

Barnes did as asked, keeping his arm still and level.

“I’m going to need to step into your personal space and touch the arm, is that okay?”

Barnes nodded resolutely.

“Okay then.”

Tony stepped into the gap between the workbench and Barnes. Why did Shuri have to put the service panels right there? Okay, the inside of the arm did make sense from a defensive standpoint – harder to attack. But this was still too close for his own comfort. He quickly assessed the damage. Nothing major. Loose wires in the hand were causing a short circuit, easy fix. Slow, detailed work but an easy fix. The range of movement and the grinding seemed to come from the same point. One of the gears was stuck. Longer fix. Especially with his hands shaking the way they were. Nerves? Maybe, but he didn’t feel nervous per se. But his hands seemed to tremor.

“Text him I’m going to be late,” Tony called out to Jarvis. The AI didn’t respond, but he knew Jarvis would get it done. “I was speaking to Shuri the other day,” more like back in May when he was speaking with T’Challa about the accords, “and she mentioned a way that might be able to give you feeling in the hand and arm. Would you- I mean, I might be able to do that for you, if you... if you want? I can definitely help with the pain.”

Barnes looked at him in disbelief. He leaned forward slightly, tilting his head in confusion.

“It’s vibranium. The arm. So, there’s a lot you can do with it. So Shuri mentioned we might be able to get touch back, but it would likely also come with being able to feel pain in the arm. Like if someone went to punch you, you’d feel it. It’s up to you. It means that while you’re Avengering - Avenging? Avengering? - you would still feel the impact of your punches or the recoil of a gun or whatever. Harder to injure though, so no sprains or whatever. But then again, if your brain is receiving input it might still register it as a sprain so you might get phantom pains. Your super-serum could act as a buffer, but neither me nor Shuri are really sure on that. It’s all untested at the moment. So, pros and cons. Just a thought, don’t worry about it if you’re not- well, it would require a lot of sitting while I fiddle with the arm and that can’t be pleasant for you. But I might- well, possibly can help with the pain at the joint - had to do something similar with the arc, so should be too difficult to pivot that research, and won’t take too long to do it either, since I’ve already used myself as like a trial run or whatever.”

Tony’s phone rang on the desk. He checked the caller ID. Just Ty, he’d call back later when he didn’t have his hands inside Barnes’ arm. He picked up the phone, declined the call with one hand, before turning it on vibrate and flipping the phone so it was face down.

“Anyway, what was I saying? Right, arm sensations. With the pain in the shoulder, I can look at your nerve connections, see what I can do. I’m not sure I can _definitely_ beat what Shuri has already done but-”

Tony’s phone began vibrating on the desk. Later, he’d call back later.

“-but I’ll have a look. Either way, I’d love to study her work more. This is maybe the third time I’ve been able to work so closely with vibranium. The first was the arc reactor, then Steve’s shield obviously, and now your arm. Which, by the way, is really cool.”

The phone vibrated again, buzzing across the workbench.

“But mostly I work with the standard stuff: steel, aluminium, my suit is gold titanium – I'm looking into more nano tech-”

It took him a moment to realise but Barnes was nodding along, listening to every word he was saying. That was... weird. Okay. Maybe Barnes liked science stuff.

“Hey Dummy,” Tony called out into the workshop, receiving a responding shrill hum in response, “could you grab me my bent nose pliers? I can’t quite-”

The bot rolled over happily, beeping in excitement as it dropped Tony’s pliers into his waiting hand. Barnes’ eyes went wide like saucers, and a smile crept onto his face. The bot rolled around to Tony, jabbing him in the back. Barnes reached out with his right hand, fingers gently mapping out the curves and lines of Dummy’s chassis and arm.

“Good boy, thank you for the pliers, I’ll make sure to take a look at you later. And we can play later. Jay?”

“Yes sir?”

Barnes twisted where he was sat, searching the room.

“Barnes, hold still. Jay, Barnes, Barnes, Jay. Now you’ve met. This is Jay 2.0, the original Jarvis was put inside Vision, so you might recognise the voice. You might not. Jay, could you remind me to research into the arm’s senses and pain receptors – biology isn’t my best so CC in Shuri, she’ll know this better than me, and I’d rather get an expert on this. God Barnes, what did you do to this arm? This is Vibranium! How have you managed to dislodge this? Jay, can you-”

Tony’s phone buzzed again on the workshop table. He ignored it. If he left this now, it would end up worse than it started. Tony glanced up at the clock.

Shit.

8:30pm.

Late. He was running late.

Ty hated him being late.

But he couldn’t just ditch Barnes like this.

“Jay, sorry, lost my train of thought, what was I saying? Oh, I know, add the research to my to-do list and add run the bot maintenance to it too. Dummy needs a spa day, Butterfingers needs a day off, and You has just seen better days in general. They need some TLC.”

“Of course sir. Might I suggest calling back Mr-”

“Not now, Jay. Can’t just yet. Could you let him know that I’m caught up in work at the moment and can't reply?”

“He's insistent, sir.”

“Just, ask him to give me 20 more minutes. Then I should be able to finish up. Anyway, sorry Barnes, where was I? Right, pliers.”

He pulled out a strip of twisted metal, and the gears were turning again. He chattered away as he fixed up the wiring and oiled the gears, making sure everything was working again. But once he was finished, the chatter stopped. He closed the service panels slowly, trying to think of a way to ease Barnes, who was sat so tensely, his metal hand gripping the edge of the metal table and the other gripping the seat of the stool he was perched on. Gripping like he was afraid of what would happen if he let go.

“I meant it you know. I don’t blame you. I’m not going to take it back or anything. I guess I... I guess I forgive you – even though it was never you, but still... I guess I think I’m trying to say- I'm sorry.”

Barnes shook his head again. Tony pushed paper and a pen towards him.

> _You shouldn’t be apologising to me. I’m sorry._

“You shouldn’t be apologising either.”

Barnes nodded at the command, setting the pen down. Tony offered his hand to shake which Barnes took in a loose clasp. Careful. Like Steve, he was always careful with his strength.

“Oh and if you have any issues with your arm again, stop by. I’m always happy to take a look. But that’s you all done for now. How’s it feel?”

Barnes rolled his shoulders and moved his arm, testing his movement. Then he flexed his fingers, each digit moving separately and at his will. Good, it worked.

 _Barely,_ that little voice in his head chided, _he’s lucky you didn’t fuck up. Ruin the arm entirely._

Barnes wrote on the paper.

> _Thank you. I really appreciate what you’ve done for me._

Something in Tony’s chest eased. Like a knot coming loose, something seems to release. That little voice in his head was silent, just for a moment.

Tony’s phone buzzed. He grabbed it, ushering Barnes out.

“Don’t worry, I’m just going to clean up here.” Barnes looked like he was about to offer to help so Tony cut him off, “I like things in particular places, so I’m just going to set my workshop alone. Anyway, I gotta,” he took the call, trying to push Barnes from the room. Barnes quickly left.

“Ty, hi.”

Instantly, Ty was yelling, “WHAT THE FUCK TONY! DON’T YOU DARE IGNORE ME!”

“I’m sorry Ty, but-”

“No Tony, we talked about this. Let me use small words so you can understand – when I call, you answer.” He said each word slowly.

“Ty, I wasn’t at a point when I could stop,” Tony protested.

Ty huffed down the phone, “No Tony, when I call, you answer. That’s it. End of story. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Ty. I’m sorry.”

“Come home. Now. Jarvis told me you’ve been in your workshop this whole time, fucking about with that useless _assistant_ robot of yours.”

“Sorry Ty, I’ll be home as soon as I can. I’m getting the suit on now.” Tony clicked his fingers a couple of times, hoping Jarvis would pick up on the signals.

Thankfully, he was a very intelligent system. The suit wrapped around him, Jarvis transferring the call to the helmet.

“Did you still want take out?”

“God, how stupid are you? _No, I don’t want take out,”_ he said snidely, “of course I don’t. You’re an hour late.”

“I had Jarvis text you.”

“Only because you were too lazy to do it yourself.”

“Ty-”

“Come home. I don’t want to talk about this over the phone.”

Tony launched himself into the air, gliding out the garage as that knot inside him tightened again.

The fight started as soon as he walked in the door. Ty grabbed him by the wrist tugging him further into the house. His grip twisted on Tony’s wrist and pain shot up his arm. Tony clenched his jaw and tried to follow Ty.

“For fuck’s sake, Tony, are you stupid?”

“I’m not-” Tony muttered, not letting his voice fill the room as Ty’s was.

“Well, clearly you are. We’ve been over this. You come home when I say you do.”

“But Ty-”

“And you had Jarvis text me! Do you even understand how disrespectful you are?”

“You use voice-to-text all the time, how is this different?”

“Do you even hear yourself? How is this different,” Ty scoffed, “you’re honestly the worst.”

“I was just helping Barnes-”

“So you were with someone?”

Something dark was looming on the horizon of this conversation. A storm that Tony could see but couldn’t get out of the path of.

“Just Barnes-”

“So you were alone with another guy. Is that what you’re telling me?”

He could hear the fall of rain.

“I was just-”

“You’re fucking cheating on me.”

The thunder roared loud in his ears.

“What? No, of course not, I love you more than anything Ty.”

“But you’d rather stay late with that- He was the one who murdered your parents, Tony!”

“Well, about that-”

A flash of lightning; a bright blinding forewarning to not finish that sentence, light enough to see the flood gates barely holding back the water. Bold enough to know not mention Steve and their conversation right now.

“What about it?”

“I was just fixing his arm.”

Ty twisted Tony’s arm in his grip, hissing at him, “liar.”

Tony grimaced, trying not to show the jolt of pain that sprang from his wrist. “Ty, I swear to you, I’m not lying!”

Ty shoved him back, pushing him away and into the wall. The framed photos rattled at the impact, quaking - their photographed inhabitants frozen in their places, smiles painted. Pictures of Ty and Tony. Pictures of Ty on the force. Pictures of Ty and his dad. All with frozen smiles. Tony focused on the pictures.

Glass shattered next to his face. He flinched, ducking to cover his eyes. Another tumbler, whisky still in it, shattered on Tony’s other side.

“You’re always talking about them. Why don’t you just get on your knees and beg for it, you fucking whore!”

“Ty, I swear, I never-” Tony ducked as another glass was thrown at him, “Ty!”

“Fucking beg for it, Tony!”

Tony closed his eyes, lowering himself onto his knees. He swallowed against the lump in his throat.

_The Great Tony Stark, on his knees. Pathetic._

_What would your dad think?_

_No wonder everyone hates you._

_No wonder you’re going to die alone._

So he knelt because he needed to keep the one person who would stick with him. And of course this looked bad to Ty. What other conclusions could he draw? Why had he stayed late with Barnes? It made no sense. None at all.

But he’d been easy to talk to. Well, talk at. Maybe it was that Tony had gotten him to smile, or his confused expression at Jarvis, or the way he reached out to Dummy. Maybe it was that he’d smiled and thanked him and Tony couldn’t remember ever having seen Barnes smile. Couldn’t remember the last time Ty had smiled at him, and it just… it had felt nice to be smiled at.

 _God, Ty was right. You are so fucking stupid_.

_How pathetic._

_He smiled because he got what he wanted. You fixed his arm. He played you, he used you._

“It’s only ever you, Ty. You’re the only one I’d ever beg for, please.”

Ty kicked out, catching the side of his face. Tony curled his fingers against the floor, digging his nails into the wood, trying not to press his fingers to the cut that now curled around his eye.

“You’d rather suck up to a murderer. God, you are so fucking stupid.”

“I am, I am so stupid. I’m sorry Ty, but I swear to you, it was just helping with his arm. Nothing else. You’re right, I’m so stupid. I never would cheat on you though, I love you so fucking much, Ty. I would never-”

Blood dripped down the side of his face, dripping onto the back of his hands as he pressed them down onto the floor, hoping to find some anchor to keep him from going adrift.

It was like a switch flipped.

The yelling stopped, and Ty was on his knees with a cloth pressed to Tony’s face, clucking his tongue sympathetically.

“Ouch, looks like it hurts.”

Tony could only nod, all words lost.

“You just make me so mad, Tony.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” the apology came out as a compulsion.

_Just make it better. Make it stop._

“If you didn’t stay out late, this wouldn’t have happened.”

Tony kept his eyes on the ground.

_He’s right, you know he is. If you just listened to him, things would be easier._

His mind flashed back to broken tumblers and whisky and his dad shouting at him for- he couldn’t remember why any more. But he could still smell the whisky on his breath.

_Should have learnt your lesson then._

_You never learn._

_Stupid._

“I’m so sorry Ty.”

“I just worry about you, you make me worry so much. Around those people: murderers, thieves and traitors, all of them. I was so worried about what they’d done to you when I didn’t hear back from you. Don’t hang out with them.”

Tony nodded. He wouldn’t stay late. That was fine.

“I’m only doing this for your sake. You think I enjoy this?”

“No,” Tony shook his head, “no, of course not.”

“I’m doing this for you, Tony. To protect you. From _them._ You’re so naïve and gullible, and I just want you to keep your distance from them. That’s all. I’m not asking much.” He tipped Tony’s chin up to force Tony to meet his eyes. “Am I asking too much?”

“No.”

Ty kissed him softly on the lips, “No, I’m not.” He patted the cloth against Tony’s cut, tutting a little. “Stopped bleeding. That’s good. How about you clear up and then we head to bed?”

Tony nodded, mind blank. The storm had cleared but it had left… not destruction in its wake, not quite. Tony couldn’t see the path it had taken here, to leave him in this calm. It was like he'd just been dropped here, in the middle of no where.

“Ty, actually, if it’s okay with you, could I go to the hospital?”

“But the cut has stopped bleeding.”

Tony nodded, “yeah, sorry, it’s just- I mean my back, but it’s fine.”

He could feel a piece of glass in his skin, poking through his shirt. The shirt was slowly getting damp and clinging to him.

Ty leaned forward from where he was already standing on the stairs, “I suppose. I have an early start and you’ve already wasted enough of my time tonight.”

“Thank you, I’ll- I’ll see you in the morning?” He hadn’t meant it as question but it was still one anyway.

Because what if Ty left?

What then?

Ty shook his head, checking his watch, “no, afternoon. Working. Make sure you're home by 7pm.”

Tony nodded. Ty left for their bedroom, closing the door behind him. Tony quickly swept up the shattered glass, mopped up the spilled whisky, and grabbed his keys before leaving for the ER.

He used a fake name. He didn’t want people showing up. He hated hospitals. He hated paparazzi. Combining the two would be a nightmare come true. So he used a fake name. James Grant. People didn’t look at him twice. A four hour wait and then a nurse let him know they were ready for him.

“And what brings you here today?”

“I think my shoulder’s bleeding.”

The doctor whistled, low and concerned, “yeah, that’s quite a cut you’ve got here. You’ll need stitches.”

The doctor had a kind smile and a chatty demeanor, and seemed at ease in the environment built for stress. She grinned at her nurse, who looked a little more harried.

The nurse quickly gathered up the necessary equipment, setting them down for the doctor, before being called out to another room. Using tweezers the doctor pulled the glass from his shoulder, the pressing feeling inside him lessening. She whistled again as she dropped the glass into a plastic pot, wiping over the cut with some kind of cream - anti-septic probably, going by the sting.

“That’s quite a cut - what happened?”

“Fell down the stairs.”

“Really?”

He could hear the disbelief in her voice.

“Yeah, friend of mine redid his house - he’s got those awful modern glass stairs. I slipped and, well-” he gestured at his face, “he wants me to pay him back for _damaging the stairs,_ ” Tony made air quotes around the words, letting the lies spew forth like so much overflowing sewage water, “like I didn’t slice my face open on his shitty interior design.”

“Ouch, that sucks,” The doctor commented as she patched him back together. “tell him you’ll deduct the medical bill from what you owe him. That’s what I’d do. I hate those kinds of stairs - let me guess, no railing?”

“Exactly!”

“Yeah,” the doctor pulled a face, “Well, I’ve had to put in six stitches - thankfully small so scarring should be minimal.” She patted a bandage over the wound, “don’t stress the wound, the stitches should dissolve on their own in about 3 weeks.” She leaned around to inspect the side of Tony’s face, “now let me see that one around your eye - hmm, more of a scrape thankfully, doesn’t look like you’ve damaged the eye there, can you read that chart clearly?” she pointed to a poster across the room, explaining pregnancy of all things. When Tony nodded, she continued, “Did you hit your head at all?”

“No, just grazed the eye I think.”

“Okie dokie, now let me see your wrist.”

“Huh?”

“Your wrist. Let me see it. It’s all swollen. Looks like a sprain.”

She checked over his wrist, pressing down on spots, frowning a little at Tony’s winces and little gaspy inhales.

“Yeah, bad sprain. You’re going to need to rest it as much as possible. It may be a little late, but still worth trying to icing it for at least tonight and tomorrow.” She wrapped a bandage around the joint, hands moving with practised speed, “should help with the swelling. Make sure you use compression bandages when you change this - this helps to stop you straining it. And elevate it as much as possible - always difficult with hands. Now, repeat that back to me.”

“Rest, Ice, Compression Bandages, and Elevate it.”

“Fabulous - fast learner. I don’t think you’ve got a concussion, but we can keep you here for observation.”

“Thanks but I’m okay. My partner is waiting for me at home, and I’m getting a cab back.”

“Okay, then you’re all done here. Let me just get your discharge paperwork sorted for you.”

The house was dark and quiet when he got back. He sat on the couch, leaned forward over his knees. He couldn’t lean back - pressure against his shoulder hurt. His wrist throbbed with every movement. A body deep sigh fled his lungs.

He didn’t have the energy to go upstairs. He didn’t want to wake Ty. He didn’t want to deal with any chance of nightmares from sleeping up there.

The couch would be comfy enough.

August 2nd 2017 – 3:51am

To do:

  * ********Lose weight – at least**** ** **27**** ** **lbs (Goal Weight: 1**** ** **29**** ** **lbs)****
  * ********Finish the Accords (Changes made - only finished once Avengers approve)****
  * Set up private server at home 
    * Move documents off server in compound
  * Work on the prototypes 
    * Figure out how to increase the display quality on the projector without impacting cost per unit
  * Repair the suit 
    * Fix the seals
    * Look into tempering the shoulder plates more. ~~~~
  * Improve on the suit/build new suit 
    * Find a way for the device to be kept on at all times 
      * Chest piece - really don’t want another chest piece, brainstorm other possibilities.
      * Mesh woven into clothing - could be too expensive, would need a lot of clothing to ensure always had a suit
      * Shuri mentioned jewellery - she did something similar for T’Challa - could work, but not really a necklace kind of person
    * Revisit the reflector panels design - improvements need to be made, can be detected 
      * Look into ways to hide from radar and infrared. 
        * Slim down the suit? Could work but can’t compromise armour integrity
        * Look into thermal masking - could be difficult to manage
        * Maybe line the suit with Lead? Could impact weight due to material density.
      * Stronger armour - weakens with continued and prolonged use without maintenance in the meantime.
  * Redesign the Stark OS
  * Restock Instant Coffee in workshop
  * Contact Shuri about: 
    * Decreasing Barnes’ pain
    * Increasing sensations in arm 
      * Look into minimising pain related sensations that could be produced from getting feeling in the arm (e.g. phantom pains) 
        * Would the Serum act as a buffer? Is it as strong as Steve’s serum?
  * Run maintenance on bots 
    * Play with Dummy



Food Eaten:

  * Cups of Coffee x4 (x4 black, no sugar)
  * Smoothie (Kale, Spinach, Banana)



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all - I'm probably going on hiatus with this for a while
> 
> I don't want to stop writing and I don't want to compromise the story I want to tell
> 
> But some readers have pointed out that 30 chapters is getting a bit long with not much progression so I want to make sure this is the best fic it can be.
> 
> Thanks everyone for their feedback and speak soon (hopefully)


	31. Skip This (Part 1)

Hi All,

I’ve been trying to think of the right way to word this. I’m going to start by apologizing for any tonal issues, I’m writing this at 2am, stressed and sleep deprived and I think still slightly drunk.

It’s sort of a confession - especially for those of you who don’t read the comments - but I think I’m going to need to take a hiatus on this fic.

I don’t know how long for, though I’d like to think that it won’t be long. I don’t know if I’ll come back to it. I’d like to think I’ll keep writing it but right now I can’t post it. This used to be a way for me to deal with the feelings I feel, or to escape from much worse feelings. But recent events have led to it losing this joy, freedom and escapism.

I’ve been receiving some comments lately regarding the realistic or unrealistic nature of how I’m portraying symptoms of anorexia. These criticisms are valid, I do not argue with that. However, I am writing the symptoms in Tony as I have experienced these symptoms in myself.

So hi. My name is SkywardGeek and I think I have anorexia and/or bulimia.

The reason I say ‘think’ is because I keep doubting myself on it. Trying to convince myself it’s not a big deal, or I can’t be anorexic because of X, Y, and Z. I can’t be bulimic because I don’t throw up every meal. I can’t be anorexic because I ate a full meal two days ago. Little things that you do to try and convince yourself that you’re fine and everything is under control.

The thing about eating disorders is they are highly competitive. So when you have it, you believe there is a proper way of doing things. A way of being the best at it.

Having people tell me that the symptoms I’m choosing to focus on are unrealistic is hurting me. This isn’t an attack at those who said it - as I’ve said, those criticisms are valid as I do not want to appear to be romanticizing anything or portraying eating disorders as less than the horror they are - but it’s translating in my (messed up) head that I’m not anorexic enough and I’m not bulimic enough because I’m not experiencing these symptoms the way people are telling me I should.

For the past month and a half, I’ve been living off 500 calories a day or less (often closer to 300, as I start getting heightened anxiety if it’s over 300 - prior to the month and a half, I was averaging 500-600 from June until mid-December), with the odd couple of exceptions where I’ve cooked for my house mate in a desperate attempt into forcing me to eat something. However, I noticed that once I started receiving these kinds of comments, I started getting stricter with myself - less calories, cutting out food groups, having liquid only days (so existing on green tea and red bull). I also started hating myself more, if I couldn’t stick to these rules because I wasn’t doing anorexia correctly. I have been lucky enough to not lose hair, to not pass out (though definitely been close), to not have brittle bones, and to not display the symptoms of severe malnutrition. But I think I certainly owe part of that to multivitamins.

What I was experiencing was a lot more of the psychological symptoms. The anxiety, the self-hatred, the low self-esteem, the mental gymnastics you conduct to convince yourself you’re okay, the fact you convince yourself that the symptoms you _do_ experience are something else: My stomach doesn’t ache from hunger, I just feel sick; That birthday cake my mum bought me isn’t delicious, it tastes like ash and sand.

I wanted to focus on writing the psychological symptoms as a way of me processing and evaluating them. I understand putting the work up for public reading leaves it open to public critique and yes, I hear you all when you say it’s going too slowly. In my defense:

  1. I tagged it as a slow burn, and I’ve read far slower.
  2. I am writing Tony as an ‘unreliable narrator’ - I.e. his account of a lot of things cannot be trusted as 100% true and factual. There is a margin for error involved. I apologise if this hasn’t come through effectively. I may take some time to go back and edit prior chapters.
  3. I didn’t want to rush through the development of anorexia, you don’t tend to just suddenly lose all the weight (you lose a lot at first typically through water weight, then it’s slower). And while some readers have said that the abuse happened fast, my counter to that is yes. It did. Because abusive relationships do happen fast. It’s not uncommon for partners to be living together within a month, and engaged within six. I’ve read a ton of articles, watched every TED talk I could find, spoken with friends about their experiences (those that wanted to share). They often didn’t see how bad things were until they left the relationship or had someone external able to help them (I.e. in Tony’s case, what do you know, look who recently re-entered his life)
  4. I didn’t want to rush through fixing everything either. From my view, rushing to fix something usually means that you haven’t _actually_ fixed it, you’ve done a patch job. I also felt it might be disrespectful to those who have suffered from an ED or from abuse. Realistically, things don’t get fixed in a couple of chapters, or a couple of days, or a few thousands words. It takes years of introspection, therapy, and hard work.



So when I say I wanted to portray realism, I didn’t mean check off every symptom on every check list. Because no illness does that. But I did want to ensure I treated the story I am telling with the gravity and respect it needed to, to ensure I didn’t make light of anyone’s situation.

I didn’t and still don’t have anyone I can talk to about this, so I wrote about it instead as my escape. And my escape is trapping me now. So until I am able to get myself to eat more than 500 calories without freaking out, or until this story becomes my escape again from the anxiety in my head, I don’t think I’ll be posting again for a while.

I’m sorry, I really am. Even re-reading this, I’m worried my tone comes across as bitchy. I’m just stressed and I shouldn’t be stressed about fanfiction. I should be enjoying writing it and telling the story I want to tell.

I’m really sorry for this and I hope if I come back to this, you guys will enjoy what I post. But I need to step away from this. I’m going to miss you all.

Thanks

SkywardGeek

xxx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I come back to this fic, this chapter will be deleted and replaced with the actual chapter 31


	32. Skip This (Part 2)

Howdy y'all,

So I thought I'd offer you all a kind of update.

Kind of.

So first of all, I really want to thank everyone who reached out in the comments. I really want to reply to all of you individually (and I will) but just the sheer amount of support left me just overwhelmed and humbled and honoured and- there are no words to accurately portray the depth of my gratitude. You have no idea how much it meant to me, and reading some of your stories honestly made me want to cry because I'm so sorry some of you are going through awful times yourself. And to those of you who offered your stories of recovery, thank you for giving me a white butterfly. I read every single comment and I hope you all know how much I love and appreciate you all 💖

I'm trying to think what I need to update you all on:

  * I spoke to a friend, kind of. We kind of actually had a mini fight at first - I apologised first, because of course I did, partly because I started it with a pass-agg comment, and partly because the guilt(TM). We didn't talk directly about EDs but just... the other stuff going on as well as that. They were understanding. I don't really know how long their understanding is going to last but I'll take it while I can. A couple of my other friends can go fuck themselves at the moment.  
  

  * I managed to eat a full meal for three days in a row which is kind of a big deal for me lately. Hated myself for three days straight too, but that's fine for now. Also had chocolate (which I love, btw) for the first time in months, which was weird. I think I've gone off it. It feels too cloying and claggy. Don't think I'll be eating any again in a while. Might just get vanilla ice cream instead or milkshakes. Chocolate isn't nearly as nice as I remember which is kind of depressing.  
  

  * I do plan on coming back to this. I have two chapters almost ready to post, and another two after that half done (and like another one after that which I'm focusing on instead because it's more fun to write - yes I write out of order, my poor beta gets me word vomiting all my ideas at her so she has an idea of the entire plot because she's read partial chapters from all over the place). So I will come back. I'm hoping by the end of March. I have a Uni assignment I want to finish off first.  
  

  * To those of you who suggested I seek help/counselling/therapy, would love to but in the UK that costs money (we have a form of CBT on the NHS, but last time I spoke to them I mentioned the ED and they said they don't/can't offer support on that and because of the ongoing world state, mental health services are overrun so I can't really get anything more specialised - same with my Uni. Also I find CBT remarkably unhelpful). I'm just a poor student who can't really afford £50 a session on a weekly basis (or however often therapy happens).  
  

  * Instead, I've been diagnosed with ADHD (through the NHS). Not a surprise since I've been trying to get a diagnosis for like 3 years (a really nice psychotherapist helped me speed up the referral to a psychiatrist so she cut 2 years off my waiting list time), but still a lot to take in. My meds will stunt my hunger and I mentioned the ED to my psychiatrist so she's got to monitor me and my weight. So I guess there's a safety net there.  
  

  * Also, I know I said that I would delete the previous chapter when I next uploaded an actual chapter. I'm not going to now. I think it's kind of important for people to see that they are not alone and the sheer amount of people who reached out, offered to talk with me, to chat and let me find a friend in them (I will be reaching out, the moment I actually set up a twitter/tumblr/etc. I know, weird I don't have them.). I'm hoping that anyone reading this is a similar situation will see that they aren't alone either. That there's a lot of people who will reach out their hand to help you up, even when they don't know your name, what you look like, or anything more than what you confess to them while drunk, alone in your bedroom at 2am (don't drink on an empty stomach, kids, it leads to a bad hangover).



I will be back soon. And I will be replying to each and every one of your comments because you all honestly mean the world to me. The fact that people take time to comment on each chapter makes me grin for like the entire day - I very giddily message my beta reader whenever I get them, send her screenshots. She must be sick of me by now.

I hope all that makes sense, and I hope you're all excited for the next chapters!

All my love,  
SkywardGeek 💖

(Also, some people were calling me Sky in the comments, which I low-key love)


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